


A Sealed Fate Revisited

by SpazzticRevenge



Category: Final Fantasy XIII, Final Fantasy XIII Series, Final Fantasy XIII-2
Genre: Abduction, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Child Abuse, Crisis of Faith, Cuddles, Drama, Eidolons, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Feels, Family Issues, Fantasy, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Dancing, Torture, War, War violence, fabula nova crystallis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:28:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 212,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23951578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpazzticRevenge/pseuds/SpazzticRevenge
Summary: She was his guardian and he was her charge. They had beaten their fate and she had kept him safe. But when she awakens from years of blissful sleep into the birth of a new war, can she still protect him? Can she still keep her promise? They found strength in each other before, can they find that strength again?
Relationships: Hope Estheim/Lightning
Comments: 35
Kudos: 74





	1. Reality

**Author's Note:**

> A new beginning for an old fic. For any new readers, or old ones that missed my previous note, I will be revising the chapters of A Sealed Fate and putting them here before I FINALLY FINISH THIS THING. 
> 
> Cheers!

Lightning was lost in a dream world. Stuck in world so peaceful that it felt abstract, alien. But real. It felt all too real and the dream ceased to be a dream. Or maybe it never was a dream. Maybe it was reality, too bright and shiny and perfect for her to believe it. If she was in a dream, she never wanted to wake from it.

Everyone was with her. She was with her sister who she had fought so desperately to get back. She was with Snow who never ceased to get on her nerves, but brought Serah a happiness that knew no bounds. She was with Sazh and Dajh who had moved closer to them in Bodhum, unable to separate from them all. She was with Fang and Vanille who decided to stay with their new family and assimilate into life on Cocoon. She was with Hope and Bartholomew who had also decided to stay in Bodhum so Hope would remain in their tight knit circle. She was even with the NORA gang who she had admittedly grown attached to right alongside the rest of them.

She would never voice the sentiment, but she loved this new life that she had with this dysfunctional new family. She loved who she had become. The Lightning that had steeled herself and her feelings, wore the mask of the proud and indestructible soldier, had melted away. Serah was all grown up and in good hands. She didn't want or need that hard shell of a sister that Lightning had become. The fighting was over and they lived in peace. Every day was beautiful, filled with laughter and joy. Nothing changed and everyone was happy.

But peace was always temporary. Lightning should have known that.

It all crumbled, piece by piece, as Lightning awoke to the feeling that something was wrong. Her world felt unbalanced, eerily illusory. It was as if the wool had been pulled from her eyes. This peace and happiness was out of place. They were together, yes. They were happy, yes. But they were on Cocoon. The last thing she had known was that Cocoon had fallen, or was falling, descending on a crash course toward the plains of Pulse. And Vanille and Fang... they had gotten separated from them in the fall. How were they here now? When did they reunite with Hope's father? How did they find Serah and Dajh? Something was wrong. It was as if all of the previous days had been fake and now she was realizing the inaccuracies. Nothing changed. They were all the same age, like time stood still.

Lightning curled her hands tightly into fists from where she stood out on a pier, facing the continuously calm, lifeless waves. She clenched them tightly enough that her nails cut into her palms, a thin red seeping out from her painlessly.

"Claire?"

Lightning turned to see her sister, her small, delicate features scrunched with worry. "Something's wrong, Serah _." I feel like I'm not supposed to be here._ Blood began dripping onto the planks as Lightning's agitation grew, her nails stabbing deeper and deeper.

"Claire, stop. You're hurting yourself."

Lightning looked down at her hands and only then did she start to feel the stabbing pain of the cuts. She looked up at Serah, about to speak when the world blurred, colors blending together, a haze cottoning Lightning's sight. Within moments she became cold, freezing down to her toes. Her knees gave as she grabbed her sides in an attempt to warm herself, but the cold seemed to seep into her bones. Her breathing quickened as her lungs struggled for air. It was like her body was freezing up, seizing into nothing but ice.

She looked to her sister, wondering if she was experiencing the same, but Serah was gone. She was nowhere to be seen. Pangs of sorrow clawed into her chest. As confused as she had been before she wasn't ready to give this happiness up. Not for anything.

Focusing on her breathing, Lightning tried to steady herself, but to no avail. Her lungs were shrinking, tinier and tinier, as if disappearing. Her limbs weighed her down, brought her to the pier with stiff muscles and lead-like bones. Heavy, she felt so very heavy.

With a thud her body collapsed down into the wood. A cry died out in her throat as it too appeared to freeze over. And there Lightning laid as Bodhum began to melt out of existence. She couldn't move, couldn't speak, she couldn't even bat an eyelash. She had been rendered completely immobile as the world grew silent around her.

Once again, she was rendered powerless against fate.

It didn't last. Lightning sent one last goodbye out to this life she had claimed, and then the blurry world around her disappeared in a flash.

* * *

It was quiet when she awoke. She blinked against stiff, swollen eyelids. Stood on legs that threatened to buckle beneath her.

The world came into focus after a handful of disoriented blinks. The world she woke up in, however, was not the bright, seaside town she was expecting, but a dimly lit room. As Lightning stood, dizziness struck and she reached out to steady herself. She gripped something solid and cold until the room settled beneath her. She realized then that she had been grasping someone's hand, a crystallized person's hand. She looked up to see that it belonged to Snow. The burly man stood there encased in crystal, for once silent as a stunningly blue statue. Lightning looked to find others crystallized as well. A small, young boy. And Serah.

"Serah," Lightning gasped as she ran to her sister's side. She was just like the others and, as Lightning deduced, was like she had been moments ago, crystallized and dreaming. _So that's what it was. I was in crystal stasis. Dreaming away as time passed by. So the hazy vision, frozen feeling, and loss of breath was me reentering reality._ Lightning growled. She was tired of all of the l'Cie bullshit. She thought that she had finally been rid of it, only to wake up and find that she had been tricked by a delusion.

Lightning gasped at a thought. _My brand._ Trembling hands struggled to pull down the zipper of her shirt to reveal only clear skin. The eyesore tattoo had vanished. The one thing that plagued her existence and endangered herself and her friends had disappeared. _It's really gone. But how long have I..._ At that thought, Lightning surveyed the room. There was nothing but the four of them. Shoved into a space that amounted to nothing but a broom closet.

_Where is Hope, Sazh, Vanille, and Fang? Did they already wake up? Wait, where am I?_ Aqua orbs continued to look over the area. Further observation led her to notice a camera on the ceiling in the left corner. Other than that, it was a bare, metal room.

There was one door that led in and out. Seeing it as her escape, she stepped toward it, but hesitated. She turned to look at Snow and the little boy, Dajh, she assumed. She then gave a longing look at Serah. _I don't want to leave you, but I have to figure out where we are._ Lightning clasped her hands over her sister's. _I'll come back for you. All of you._

With that, she ran to the exit. Lightning peeked through the window in the door and saw no one, not a sign of life. She gripped the door handle, expecting it to be locked, and was surprised when it opened with ease. _Okay, I guess we weren't imprisoned. But…_ It was dead quiet, all atmospheric noise vacuumed into silence, until Lightning heard footsteps drawing near. By the sound of it, it was a single person. Unaccompanied, unhurried. Lightning went for her gunblade and was relieved to have it at her side. It felt like it been ages since she had last used her weapon, but at the same time like it was only yesterday that it was slicing into Orphan. The contradiction was disorienting. Maddening.

She couldn't dwell on that.

The footsteps approached from around a corner. Lightning tried to formulate a plan. _Do I grab them and demand answers? No, what if it's a civilian and I only succeed in threatening an innocent person? Do I act like I'm lost and ask where I am? Gauge it from there? No, what if it's a soldier and I end up getting arrested? Or worse. I could go back into the room. No, that solves nothing, I'll come across someone sooner or later._ The person rounded the corner as they were wringing their hands, watching them with enough intensity that they failed to detect Lightning's presence. It was a man. His uniform was unfamiliar to her. The gun at his side, however, was not. She knew a military issued weapon when she saw one. _He hasn't noticed me yet. He has to be a soldier, but I don't recognize the uniform. Where am I?_

_When am I?_

The soldier, whose face and lack of instincts screamed young and naive, looked up and immediately drew his gun from his side. Lightning gripped her gunblade tighter. "Identification. Now. What is your rank and business?" The man looked her up and down, assessing her, trigger ready. Lightning was still struggling with her decision. "I said Identifi-"

"Of course. Sorry I was a little caught up in my thoughts," Lightning said, running a hand through her hair, affecting the air-headed bimbo. She reached toward her pocket and watched as the soldier started to lower his weapon. In a flash, Lightning drew her gunblade and knocked the gun out of the soldier's hands. She pinned him to the wall with her blade a hair beneath his Adam's apple. The soldier trembled as the blade pressed deeper into his neck.

"Where am I? What is this place?" Lightning growled.

Confusion twisted the soldier's features, but he jumped to speak when the blade nicked his skin. "I-it's t-the... Academy Base. R-Resear-Research and Operations."

"Academy base? What… What's the year?"

His jaw slackened, incredulity bunching his brows. "I-It's 6AF. How do you not know the year? Who _are_ you?"

_6AF? What the hell does that... Wait... It can't mean..._ Body tensing at the thought, Lightning hardened her stare. "What is AF?"

"It m-mean-ns 'After Fall.' As in, a-after the fall of Cocoon."

_Then it is. It's really been six years since I-_

Blaring alarms began to sound throughout the hallway, disconnecting Lightning from her thoughts. "What is that?"

"I think it's about you," the soldier replied, all traces of fear evaporating from his expression. A grin curved his face. He tilted chin toward the camera in the ceiling.

"Damn." Just as the word flew from her mouth she heard footsteps incoming from both sides of the hallway.

"You should give up and surrender. You're not going to get out of here alive If you-"

Lightning drew her gunblade back and slammed the hilt down on his head. His body sagged down to the floor, grin disappearing with his consciousness. _Please. If the rest of the soldiers around here are like you, excuse me for not cowering at their feet._ Not a moment later did four soldiers line up in front of her, three rounding a corner to cover her rear. _Hmph, not a problem._ Lightning smirked, steeling her stance and drawing her gunblade up. As she prepared to lunge for her first target, a haze clouded her senses. A numbness drooped her eyelids, her hearing cottoning over. Her self-preservation instinct grew faint until all she could feel was an unbearable drowsiness. She looked through bleary eyes to see a manadrive glowing in one of the soldier's palms. _Sleep? You've got to be kidding me._

It hit her like a truck. A wave of dizziness and nausea crashed over her. Every bone, every cell of her body felt wrought with exhaustion. Lightning's gaze fell to the floor as her body followed. Lightning sunk to her knees before she collapsed to the ground, her gunblade flopping to her side. Lightning was forced to let sleep overtake her again.

_Why can't it be over? Why can't it ever be over?_


	2. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new civilization, old faces, and many, many questions.

Lightning jolted awake. Her breathing quick and her palms slick with sweat, she began to sit up, a dizziness fogging her mind and freckling spots in her vision. She brought her hand to her head, scraping her fingernails against it like she could reach in and snatch the ailment out of her. The manadrives packed a punch.

"Hey, take it easy, soldier girl."

The milky cataract that seemed to cloud her vision cleared, revealing a friendly, sorely missed face. "Sazh?" Lightning replied, too shocked to be wary of the hand he used to press her back into the couch. His features hadn't changed, protection still strapped to his side, and stance as casual as ever.

"I can't believe someone else's finally awake. O'course, it would'a been nice if you'd woken up durin' the day so someone could'a seen ya. Avoidin' this 'ole mess." Sazh looked down at Lightning, eyes crinkling with unabashed mirth and Lightning's lungs, which had felt so tight, so unbearably restricted since she had decrystallized, seemed to expand back to normal. "I remember when I thawed out, a cryin', ragin' fool. But somebody found me right quick." There was a sparkle in Sazh's eye, gaze on the desk across the room.

"Where am I? What happened?" Lightning asked, taking in her surroundings to find a desk, bookshelves, and a table full of metal scraps. Someone's office. An accomplished person's office, judging by the wall decorated with certificates and achievements.

"No how ya do's? Right to business then," Sazh accepted with a grin. Lightning sat back up, arms crossed, features focused. "All right, well, I best be gettin' someone first. Might as well hear it from one of the higher ups. And from someone you're a bit closer to." Sazh winked and Lightning shot him a glare, in no mood for implications. "Now, calm down, I have some business to be finishin' anyway, but I'll be seein' ya soon. You can count on that."

Sazh charged toward the door, but Lightning wasn't losing her only lead to understanding this situation, or the one face she recognized, one she could call family. She jumped up, her stance wavering on the floor as her world still held a distorted sense of gravity, and reached out to nab Sazh's shoulder. "How about you start explaining some things first, Sazh. Then you can go." His crooked grin wasn't as comforting as it once had been, hampered by something she couldn't identify.

"Trust me, Lightning, it's better from him."

Lightning's grip slid form his shoulder as confusion bunched her brow. "It's better from who?" Azure eyes glared his mirth down until his smile receded. Before he could respond, a chirping sounded out from his pocket, reality a sharp blade slicing between them.

Sazh sighed and answered his communicator, apology in the quirk of his lips. "Hello...? No, who authorized that...? I'm trying t-... I'll be over there in a flash." At that, Sazh shut off his comm with a wary glance toward Lightning. "Alright, I know patience ain't your strong suit, but I really gotta head out. Jus' wait here. I promise you'll get those answers." With that, Sazh literally ran away from her.

Lightning made to follow, but stopped. "Tch, figures. I finally find someone and they run off." _It's good to see him. But who the hell was he talking about? One of the higher ups... someone you're a bit closer to...?_ "Whatever." Lightning walked herself back to her gunblade. It sat leaned against the couch that she had woken up on. It was policy to disarm a suspicious person no matter the organization, but that didn't mean Lightning had to like it. She inspected weapon briefly before holstering it back to her side. Her feelings felt jumbled, nerves rattling at the lack of any reports on her status. No known location, or time, her team was either crystallized or MIA, and she had only one ally at her back. _If Sazh says that I should stay… then I will. I trust him._

Lighting felt that sentiment tickle something inside of her, a feather edging at the rim of her heart. Trust. It was a bond that Lightning had not created with anyone out in the world, not even with anyone in her squadron. She was a lone wolf on missions, out in the field, bloody and moving on adrenaline and determination alone. She couldn't rely on those that turned their nose up at her status, her age, her gender. And at home, she had Serah, one last heartstring she couldn't cut. One last tether that kept her human.

But she learned to trust others, gradually, as she faced each of her l'Cie brethren. Forced into the most perilous of situations, chained together by an insurmountable burden, Lightning found the true meaning of trust alongside her teammates.

But where were they now?

The question itched at the back of her skull, urging her to seek, to find. To save. That was what she was good at. Waiting like this… Well, she would have torpedoed off of a cliff on that train if she would have waited then. But for Sazh, she would wait, as patiently as she was able. _I'm going to have to remind him of who he's dealing with next time. Ordering me around?_

Lightning brought her mind back to her surroundings, taking in the ample breathing room offered by the office she was housed in. There were bookcases topped off with volumes and tomes on the right wall, the bulk of them technical manuals and historic literature. Most were worn, the spines bent and broken in. The left side of the room held a table with small gadgets, mechanical pieces and technical tools strewn across its top. At the far side of the room was a desk, clean and neatly organized, clearly tidied into a methodical and efficient setup with post it notes and highlighters and those dorky tab things Serah had used.

Lightning stepped towards the desk, seeking answers. Snooping wasn't in her nature, but gathering intel was. The main points of interest were the laptop at the center of the desk, a heaving stack of documents, and one framed picture with subjects she recognized. Lightning snatched up the picture, eyes roving over the image with laser-like intensity. It had three men posed in front of a building. The one in the middle was an unaged Bartholomew sans his spectacles. The man to his left was Rygdea. _I thought he had turned cieth. Then again, so did we._ Rygdea's mane of hair was tied up, facial hair grown into a scraggly beard. _But the man on the right...?_ Lightning couldn't place him, but the sight of him, of those vibrant green eyes and stark silver hair, pinched familiarity into her chest the way the presence of Sazh had. It was like her body was telling her that he was someone important.

Someone… forgotten.

She put the picture down and walked back over to the couch. She stood, crossing her arms and waiting, eyes glued to the door. After minutes ticked a restlessness into her bones, Lightning sighed, bowing the tension from her stance. _So… I'm awake. It's not like I expected a parade or anything, but I would like to know what the hell is going on._ Drawing in a breath, Lightning closed her eyes, allowing herself a brief respite into the memories of her stasis dream. Although she knew now that it hadn't been real, she missed it. It had been the simple life with her family that she felt she had earned. She began to wonder if she wouldn't prefer that reality to this one.

Fully immersed, Lightning's senses dulled. She could almost see Serah. She was laughing and waving, twirling around in her polka dot bikini that she bought for that day at the beach.

_"Claire, go put on yours," Serah urged._

Lightning's response skimmed her tongue, came to a screeching halt at the backs of her teeth. Someone was behind her. There was a hand on her shoulder.

Her stasis evaporated from Lightning's eyes, danger raising every hair on her body. In the blink of an eye, Lightning grabbed the person's wrist and pulled it behind their back, sweeping her gunblade up and under their chin.

The man struggled to speak, "Wait I-," but he was cut off by Lightning.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" The gunblade creeped closer to his neck, shaving at the stubble on her captive's Adam's apple. She never let anyone get behind her. Ever. That calm, quiet life, no matter how fictional, ruined her. "Speak. Who are you?"

Lightning expected insolence, anger, a stubborn struggle, not a humored reply. "Seeing as you're in my office, why wouldn't I be in here? I heard that you wanted to talk, Light."

Lightning's grip slackened, the man cautiously edging out of her blade's path. After stumbling out of reach, he swiped at his sleeves, adjusted his collar, and turned around. There was that pinch again, that quick snip of pain that told her she was missing something. Someone. This person. In front of her. That knowing part of her mind kept pinching, kept clawing at her. He was the man from the picture, validating his claims, but…that lanky build, those eyes, that hair, his voice. The white, blue and yellow uniform, tightly buttoned and perfectly pressed, seemed to backtrack every step her mind took towards who this man was. She remembered dirty cheeks, torn and ragged clothes, a knife in gloved palms, a blue scarf or… a tie or…

"You don't recognize me, do you?" he asked, his smile betraying the way the light left his eyes.

It was that expression, with those puppy dog eyes, that seemed to smack Lightning in the face with the answer. _Hope? But your so... Apparently it has been six years. But when did you wake up?_

Hope walked toward her hesitantly. "Light?" Just as Hope was about to place a hand on her shoulder, she swept him into a hug. She fought so hard to steal that look from Hope's face, to harden his soft edges so he couldn't be hurt anymore. Palumpolum felt like yesterday, this same hug fortifying a shaky branch of trust, but it wasn't. This Hope barely fit into Lightning's arms, her forehead bumping against the knot of his tie. His arms encircled her waist, long, firm and confident, no longer desperate for protection or acceptance. The difference was almost too much.

"It's good to see you too, Light."

Lightning pulled away, rested her hands on his shoulders, and looked him up and down. "It's you, but you're so..."

"Old?" guessed Hope, chuckling softly. She was still looking him over, and true to his younger mannerisms, he shifted uncomfortably at the scrutiny.

"I can't believe I didn't recognize you." He was taller, and had thinned out with toned muscle, having lost the last of his baby fat. His face was longer, leaner, with a strong, angular jaw line like the boys Serah used to squeal about in her magazines. His hair was longer, tamed from his ruffled spikes that used to coil in the mornings under the humidity of Pulse. And those eyes. How could she not remember those eyes? After a few awkwardly silent moments, Lightning punched him in the arm.

"Ow, what was that for?" He turned his abused side away from her, rubbing at his bicep.

She only glared at him in return. The action housed the culmination of her feelings. Hope was alive, safe, and healthy. She couldn't ask for much more than that. "That was for making me wait. And..." Lightning waited until Hope dropped his guard to punch him again. "That's for growing up."

Hope winced and rubbed the abused area again, but smiled. "Jeez, Light, I'm sorry. I was in a meeting. I came as soon as Sazh got a hold of me." He walked over to the couch and gestured for her to sit beside him,waiting until she sat on a neighboring cushion. "As for the growing up part... it couldn't be helped, I guess." Hope rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he looked over at her. "It is really great to see you, Light, even if I get a bruised arm out of the deal." His smile widened, but there was a hesitancy to it. "I'm sure you have some questi-"

"When did you wake up?" Lightning stared at Hope tentatively, formulating an age progression in her mind. _He couldn't be more than twenty._

Hope focused on the ground, at shoes that clicked together in the silence, a gloom overtaking his warmth. He cycled a breath, and looked back into Lightning's unyielding gaze. "About a year after the fall. I was the first to wake up."

"And Sazh?"

"He woke up four years after, three years after me." Hope's eyes traveled, finding a spot just beyond Lightning's ear, a tiny smile tugging at his lips. "The chocobo was still in his hair, so it got crystallized too." Hope chuckled and Lightning could imagine the sight, its high pitch chirps sounding out in celebration, just like it did when their team conquered monster after monster. "I can't believe how big it is now, after just a couple of years." Lightning thought of that tiny chick sprouting into full growth. Much like the Hope before her.

Hope's breath caught audibly, and Lightning caught him staring. "What?"

"Nothing!" He replied, an octave too high as his hands waved frantically in front of his face. A redness climbed his cheeks, and he muttered something under his breath, almost stabbing his own words into him.

Lightning allowed him a moment. "What about Vanille and Fang?" At that, Hope froze. His gaze fell to his hands, conflict marring his features. "What?" she asked, concern creeping into her voice. "They aren't..."

"No, no, no, no!" Hope blanched, sitting forward, knocking his knees against Lightning's before he sprung back to his initial spot. Lightning rose a brow, leading him to rest his head in his hand, gouging at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "T-They are crystallized too, but..." he sputtered.

"But what?"

"They stopped Cocoon from falling." The gravity in Hope's voice sunk Lightning's hopes to the pit of her stomach. "They became Ragnarok and crystallized Cocoon. It created a crystal pillar that holds it up. They're inside that pillar."

A flurry of questions stormed Lightning's mind, tripping themselves in line to be spoken first. The despair in Hope's expression distilled her mind to one thought.

_If Vanille and Fang wake up, would that mean the end of Cocoon and all still inside?_

She couldn't form the words, couldn't speak the question. Hope didn't look like he could answer it. "So, this is your office? You must be important, Mr. Bigshot."

Hope's awkward, quirky smile reappeared, a remnant of his teenage years that Lightning hoped wouldn't fade. "Well, you could say that."

"What is this place? The Academy?"

"It's the new government around here. Pretty much replaced the Sanctum. This is the base. You woke up in the Research and Operations sector." Hope bit his lip, grimacing as he bowed forward, a hand on his chest. "Sorry about the guards and the sleep spell, by the way." He peeked up through his bangs, like a child ready to be scolded, and Lightning rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, that was fun." Hope's expression turned even more sheepish and she smirked. _Looks like some things never change._

"Anyway, after the fall and after they built a chunk of the new settlement, they created the Academy. An approximate two thirds of the population had been evacuated or purged before the fall, and a large sum live here in Academia."

"A large sum?"

"Right, can't get anything past you." Hope mumbled. "There is another settlement run by what's left of the Sanctum." Lightning growled, causing Hope to nod knowingly, like he understood exactly how much anger boiled inside of her blood at the mention of that group of puppeteers that masked their true intentions in the governing system of theocracy. "I know. It's filled with people who still don't trust us. L'Cie, I mean. They refused to have anything to do with us or any of the purge victims. Instead they created their own colony and I don't know how..." Hope sighed, long and tired through his nose, dread hunching his shoulders, "but they work with another Fal'Cie and-"

"What?!" Lightning stood, rigid and gasping at the idiocy of her species. "How? Why would anyone want to-" She huffed, raking her hands through her hair. Her limbs shook, muscles quaking and bones rattling with a volcanic eruption of white hot rage. "After everything that's happened."

"And that is exactly why we don't trust it. But it provides them with power and they..." Hope trailed off, gaze seeking safety, burrowing into a corner of the room. Sensing his discomfort, Lightning lifted his chin to make his gaze meet hers. That earlier redness spread across the peaks of Hope's cheeks as their eyes locked. After a few moments of silence, Hope continued, "And… that's pretty much what all this is." Hope swallowed, his hand gesturing out to the room, Academia, all of this world summed up into a brief, disparaging history lesson. "We are prioritizing rebuilding and after our first big step of crafting our own power, we jumped on other projects. We sent ships to find more purge settlements and brought them back. Even after a handful of years, we managed to find one just a few months ago."

_All this time, I've been dreaming away while Hope and everyone else were having to deal with real problems. I should have been here. Why wouldn't I wake up?_

"Light?" Just as Hope stirred her from her thoughts, a knock sounded from the door. "Yes." Both Hope's and Lightning's attention snapped to the door as a woman pushed it open.

Lightning took the girl in as she stood there. Short, curly blonde hair was cut to her jawline, bangs curved above blue eyes that sparkled with clear adoration as her eyes zeroed in on Hope. Her uniform matched Hope's, but was tailored for a feminine form, hers far more revealing on her tan, petite frame. A clipboard and loose papers tucked under an arm. A perky smile pulled at her lips as she spoke.

"Director, don't tell me you forgot about the meeting. About your proposal for the-"

"Right, sorry, Alyssa." Hope's gaze fell to the floor, palms smacking down on his knees before he heaved himself up. "I got a little carried away. You probably want to clean up, right, Light? I know that when I woke up, I really wanted a shower. And you're probably hungry. Uh... this is Alyssa Zaidelle, my assistant. Alyssa, this is Lightning Farron."

Alyssa's head tilted, eyes shining as they roved over Lightning with an unnerving amount of interest. "Really? I heard another specimen woke up last night."

Hope cleared his throat, stabbing Alyssa with a pointed look. "They are people, Alyssa. Not specimens."

Alyssa jumped at the reminder, scrambling to move the bundle of papers in her hold to thrust out a hand. "Sorry. Being a researcher, I tend to let my nature run over my manners. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Lightning took hold of her hand, just as dainty and manicured as the rest of her appearance. The girl flinched at the clench of her hand, leading Lightning to adjust her grip. "Right."

Hope walked backwards toward the door, briefly glimpsing his watch as he spoke. "Alyssa, would you mind showing Light to her temporary room?"

"Of course, Director," Alyssa replied with a bright smile that scrunched her eyes.

As much as Lightning didn't need a babysitter, she felt her hand twitch in Hope's direction. A part of her wanted to ask a question, reach out, stall for time. She wanted to prolong their interaction, needing something, someone to hold onto. To keep her standing in the here and now and not a past that never happened.

A part of her, some weak, newly dependent part of her, needed her family by her side. And Hope was family.

Hope looked to Lightning, regret tugging at his lips. He looked as reluctant to leave as Lightning felt. "It's right by Sazh's so he can allay any difficulties or concerns you may have. I'll see you later, all right, Light?" With that he was out the door.

"So... That just leaves you and me." Alyssa spun on her heel, busying her hands with the paperwork on Hope's desk. Deft fingers flipped through the stack, a careful, yet efficient eye scanning each page before she would either tuck it back in the pile or snap it into her clipboard. She kept talking, her eyes never leaving her work though her smile failed to dim. "I can't imagine how this must be for you. I mean, _six years_ … but with stasis it must seem like just yesterday that you all took down Orphan."

_Yay, she's chipper. Very, very chipper._ Lightning peeled the distaste from her expression before it could be seen. "Yeah, pretty much."

"Well," Alyssa huffed, tucking her now brimming clipboard back against her side. She gestured toward the door, ushering Lightning out like a _sheep dog_ with prodding fingertips. Lightning focused her frustration on memorizing the layout of the building instead of Hope's assistant. "It is wonderful to meet you. I've heard so much about your group and the l'Cie adventures."

_Adventures, huh?_ Lightning smirked, knocking the word around her jaw. _That's one word for it._

The two began their trek through the halls, Lighting's guard never falling, her hand remaining on her hip, mere inches from her gunblade for quick retrieval. The Academy seemed like a quiet, but expansive place. The halls were fit for a wide berth with wooden wall panels decorated with ornate patterns, archways carved with floor numbers and wing names, and floors suitable for absorbing the sounds of footsteps. The usual din of a government building was muffled, reduced to background chatter of passersby. The air was familiar, though. The Academy still had that chill that Lightning recognized from her times at headquarters and when she would stay in the barracks. A chill that reminded you of where you were, what you were there for, and what you were becoming.

After all, a den full of murderers wasn't supposed to be warm and cozy, was it?

But the other soldiers they passed ( _or are they students?_ ) all had the same pep in their step that Alyssa had. They had a spirited gleam to their eyes, wearing their uniforms with pride. Groups were laughing and joking with each other as they traversed the corridors. It was all so peaceful… Was this truly life after the fall of their civilization? Was the Academy really a government institute that people _liked_ to be a part of?

"The director says that you saved his life," Alyssa began, though she kept reading through her paperwork, retrieving a pen from her hip pouch and scritch-scratching through forms, annotating in the margins. "He said that if you hadn't toughened him up, he would have been eaten alive."

_Really? I guess so-_

"Anyway, your room isn't too far. We had small apartments built in for when our valiant heroes decrystallized so you'd have a place to stay. Until we could find you a more permanent residence, that is."

"But… hasn't Sazh been awake for years now? That doesn't sound temporary." The word _prison_ flashed in Lighting's mind. If Hope and Sazh hadn't been there to assure her of this _Academy's_ legitimacy, she would have stopped cold in her suspicion. Lightning knew what life had been like for l'Cie on Cocoon. She couldn't imagine that the public's opinion of them could change to allow such inclusion. Even for ex-l'Cie such as herself.

Lightning's hand rose instinctively to cover her brand, to hide it, to conceal. But it was gone. And maybe so was that fear in this new society.

"He decrystallized in 4AF, so I can understand your misguided perception. It does seem like a protracted amount of time to settle in," answered Alyssa, bouncing on her heels. Her pen scritch-scratched, scritch-scratched as constant and irritating as the buzz of a fly that alluded a swatter. Until it suddenly stopped. She made a humming sound in the back of her throat, staring hard at a page as she scratched her pen against her brow. Then she made a loud "ah-ha!" exclamation, before marking something down.

Lightning tried to ignore her cheery demeanor, but felt her eye twitch, just a little. "So then why is he still living here?"

Alyssa's expression tensed, pen stopping mid-swoop, but she managed to keep a tight smile. "I don't interact much with Mr. Katzroy, but from what I've heard it's because of his son... Staying close to him and all. You know?"

"Right." Lightning watched her steps, a kindred understanding sprouting within her. She thought of Serah, her baby sister, her only family, and she knew that she would be doing the same. "Who runs this place, anyway? Some old Primarch like Dysley? If that's the case, then I'd rather stay a crystal."

Alyssa giggled, smacking a hand on Lightning's pauldron. Lightning gave the spot a long look. "No, silly," Alyssa chirped. "He didn't tell you?"

"What?"

"Our fearless leader," Alyssa began before erupting into another fit of giggles, nearly losing her clipboard in her spasm of laughter, "is Director Estheim, of course."


	3. Possibility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A whirlwind of facts, a mental adjustment, and a hope to believe in.

Lightning stopped dead in her tracks, capable only of blinking as she processed that statement. "As in Hope?"

Alyssa nodded, laughter subsiding as she thumbed a tear from her eye. "I'm sorry. It's just such common knowledge and you both…" Lightning rose an unamused brow, looking anywhere but at the teasing smile high on Alyssa's cheeks.

There was a photo on the wall behind Alyssa's head, a portrait of a man, young with choppy hair and a square jaw. It was in memoriam. A dead soldier. Lightning stared at him, his look of duty and steely determination now left as his eternal memory, date of death printed as the year before.

The scratch-scratching continued. "I'm surprised that he didn't tell you, but it would be hard to get out six years of information in a handful of minutes."

_In six years, okay five, Hope changed from... It isn't that much of a stretch. He changed a lot during our time on the run, but... to become a leader of a new society?_

Alyssa tapped her index finger against her chin, tilting her head as she peered at Lightning. "Something wrong?" Something about the girl's probing stare irked Lightning, like she was a patient beneath Alyssa's waiting scalpel. All Lightning wanted to do was turn the scalpel back around and see how Alyssa liked being treated like a _specimen_.

"Nope," Lightning lied with a shake of the head. Alyssa shrugged, pivoting on her heel to continue their trek. Lightning saluted the fallen soldier, she owed him that much, didn't she, before trailing after. "Isn't Hope too young?"

Alyssa fell back into step beside her, humming an affirmative. "Yes, he is exceptionally young for his position, a mere infant compared to the more seasoned members of our government. However, he is more than qualified. He does a fine job of leading his people. He is diplomatic, going to great lengths to understand the wills and wishes of those beneath him. He's popular and admired by the majority of the population." Alyssa brought a hand to her chin, a warmth blooming at the peaks of her cheeks. "His intelligence is his merit, but he is best known for his pure and honest demeanor... "

Lightning gave her a sidelong glance before noticing another framed portrait of a fallen soldier.

A bashful smile had Alyssa holding her cheeks, clipboard pinched between her elbow and side, before she gave her face a firm pat and continued. "He joined the Academy after it was founded by Bartholomew Estheim and Rygdea Karsten in 2AF. Much like me, he flew through the ranks. He was already practically leading the Academy before he took over. He was officially appointed to the position of Director last year due to... unfortunate and unforeseeable events."

"What happened?"

Alyssa's pace slowed until the two came to a stop. "…After the creation of the Academy, Bartholomew Estheim was the director. Captain Karsten declined his offers to take part in the government, so he works alongside General Amodar. They lead the Cavalry and the Guardian Corps respectively."

Lightning's ears perked. She put a hand on Alyssa's shoulder, pressing pause on the flood of information. "Amodar? As in-"

Alyssa flashed a toothy smile, "That's right. You were under his command back before the fall. He talks about you, too. At least when I've been around him. The Cavalry's primary objective is to survey pulse, but they also organize search parties and execute rescue missions for surviving purge settlements. The Guardian Corps is charged with securing the protection and general well-being of the citizens of Academia. Anyway…" Alyssa's expression sobered, gaze falling to the tip of her pen where Hope's name was printed in delicate script, "Bartholomew Estheim was a great leader, but when there was an assassination attempt on Hope's life-"

"What, by who?" Lighting tensed, heart briefly stopping. It prickled every nerve in her body, heightening her suspicions toward this new world that she'd fallen into. _Hope was… almost killed?_

Alyssa looked around briefly, her eyes flitting from place to place. "By the Sanctum settlement," she whispered. "It was never proven, but... that was where all of the breadcrumbs led to. As a result of the incident," Alyssa stepped aside, revealing another portrait of a fallen man, this one much bigger, and much, much more familiar, "three men were killed along with Bartholomew."

The death dates were the same.

Lightning's eyes grew wide, her lips parting as her hand came up to her chest, hovering. She stared into the man's eyes. Eyes that Lightning had seen full of grief at the loss of his wife. Eyes that were brimming with gratitude as he thanked their group for returning his son. Eyes that softened with love as he looked at Hope.

_He lost his father, too._

Alyssa continued walking, head buried in her papers, licking her thumb to flip a page. Lightning didn't follow. She kept staring at Bartholomew's picture, his proud profile. Hope's father was dead. Serah was stuck in crystal. There was a city of Cocoon inhabitants thriving on Pulse. L'Cie were accepted.

Nothing… made sense.

Lightning unplugged her thoughts, drained her face of emotion, and started moving forward again.

With a dry hum, Alyssa continued. "After the incident, the position was left to Hope. As you can imagine, he was reluctant to accept it."

_I bet._

"Here we are. I do hope you find the room accommodating to your needs. Mr. Katzroy's room is right here." Alyssa tapped on the door directly across the hall from Lightning's. "Here is your key," she continued, handing Lightning a yellow key card and turning on her heel to leave. "Oh and I almost forgot." She spun around back into Lightning's space, smacking a hand to her forehead. "There is a communicator for you by the landline. My number is programmed into its contacts, along with the director's and Mr. Katzroy's. Be sure to give me a ring if you need anything." With that, the perky blonde waved and left, hunching back over her clipboard.

Lightning stood there, letting all of the information sink in before she entered her room. It was small, a place her sister may have affectionately called cozy. A galley kitchen. A dining corner. A couch and TV to suit a sitting room. And further inspection led her to a bathroom and one bedroom. It held the air of a basic apartment, rather than temporary living quarters. It was even furnished with lamps, some kind of sheer drapery, kitchen appliances, and a small collection of books of various genres. It appeared to be anything, but a prison.

Though looks could be deceiving.

Lightning placed her key card next to the phone and communicator. She let her legs drop her weight down onto the couch, breathing in the beginnings of her new life, and breathing it out.

 _So much has happened while I was off in la la land. Why did it have to be Hope that woke up first? Why did he have to be saddled with the responsibility of the world while we slept the time away? He'd already been forced to grow up in the short time after his mother died... and then to wake up with none of us here… At least he had his father, but,_ Lightning pinched the bridge of her nose, _t_ _o lose him, too? And like that is just... he can't catch a break._

Lightning sat back, staring at the popcorn dots of her ceiling, and found herself reflecting back on her encounter with Hope. _He's gone through a dramatic transformation. Grown into someone unrecognizable. Of course, puberty and running a city will do that. I can't get over how grown he is, though._ _I'm glad Sazh is here, too. I feel grateful somehow that I wasn't the first to wake up. No. I would have preferred it to be me over Hope._

Lighting clicked her tongue as her agitation began to metastasize with her thoughts. There was a window behind the couch, a triple paneled glass window. She knelt on a cushion, brushing back the curtains to look out. Six years seemed like a blip of time, too brief to build a city, but they did it. Her room was maybe seven or eight floors up, judging by the distance she could see, and all around were skyscrapers, little, pale-colored homes, cars and hover bikes zipping through streets. There was the hustle and bustle of normalcy. Like they were still on cocoon, living under a fake sky with artificial air under masters they wouldn't dare question.

Lightning found herself smiling. She rested her forehead against the glass, felt the sun's rays like it was the first time, back when they were fighting for their lives on Pulse. This wasn't Cocoon. They'd fought for freedom.

And they won.

Lightning's mind slipped into its days in crystal stasis. She had been surrounded by loving and caring people, surrounded by such warmth, that she missed it terribly _._

_I finally had everyone back. I finally had her back. Only to wake up and find that she's still in that damned crystal._

Lightning huffed, fury stealing the calm that she'd found. It rampaged through her, an untamed beast running wild until she snatched up the lamp from the side table and hurled it at the wall. It shattered on contact and she fell back into the couch, sinking into its cushions, letting her anger eat at her. _I can't... Why?!_ It was a question that Lightning asked many times over the course of her sentence as a l'Cie, why they had to fight and endure and suffer. Too many times she felt robbed of her answer, as if it was dangling in front of her nose, a cat toy that would bounce in and out of focus.

_I refuse to accept that it's destiny, fate, or whatever. I refuse to let this keep happening. I helped free Cocoon. I will free my sister._

* * *

Hope had been right about that shower. The sensation of the heated mist consuming her body, a rush of fresh, clean water soaking deep into her skin, plunged her senses into the life she woke up in. It was refreshing, like peeling off a layer of skin, shedding the life she was leaving behind.

Now that she was facing forward, Lightning had to figure out where she fit in this society.

Her closet was stocked with Academy uniforms. Lightning wrinkled her nose at the ones that were carbon copies of Alyssa's. She was about to slam the door and redress in her old uniform when she spotted a few, dust-laden GC uniforms that matched her own.

_Seems like they planned for everything._

Lightning was toweling off the ends of her hair when there was a knock on her door. It had a friendly beat to it, one like her sister used to use when calling through her door that dinner was ready. Still, Lightning drew her footsteps quiet, sneaking her way to glimpse through the peep hole. A wide smile and a puff of hair were there to greet her.

"Hey, Sazh," Lightning said as she swung open the door.

"Lightning, it's great to see ya. When I'm not runnin' this way and that, o'course. Care to join me in the mess for lunch?"

"I, ah…" Lightning was grateful for Sazh's presence, she was. But the idea of socializing, of gabbing with people who would treat her like a science experiment or a fascinating relic of the past, sounded like a plunge Lightning wasn't prepared for.

"What'll it be, soldier? An old man could use some fresh company," he prodded. "These worker bees are great and all, but I'd rather have lunch with an old friend."

"You're not that old, Sazh." Swallowing her reluctance, Lightning snatched up her key card and communicator, ignored the shattered lamp on the floor, and walked out.

"Alright, let's have ourselves a little welcome back party."

That was the exact opposite of what she wanted, and she knew Sazh knew that. Glaring over at him, she made sure to stab that point into him as sharply as she could, "Let's not go that far, but it beats wandering around aimlessly and I am the furthest from tired. I couldn't sleep if I tried. I've rested enough for a lifetime."

"Yeah, I know exactly how ya feel. Only when I woke up, I had five soldiers on me in two minutes. All tellin' me to stay calm, that things were safe, and that I had nothin' to worry about." The man shook his head, tapping a hand on his holster. "I wouldn'ta been worryin' if they hadn't been pointin' weapons in my face. I was ready for a fight. But the moment I saw all y'all, and Dajh, I surrendered. Found myself talking to a Director Estheim. Said he was Hope's father. Gotta say..." Sazh rubbed the back of his head, face pinched. "They look nothin' alike."

"No kidding."

"I told him that, too. He said the kid took after his mom. And uh... well..." Sazh's smile waned, the glint to his eyes fading with the recollection. "Then after a bit of explainin' about this new place, in strolls the kid himself and, dear Maker, even two years ago he didn't look like a kid anymore," Sazh said, pride in the bounce of his shoulders. "Kid's a man now."

Lightning snorted, "Yeah, it's hard to miss."

_Couldn't even recognize him._

There was that pinch again. Lightning felt guilty for not recognizing some part of him. How could she claim that they were family if she couldn't identify who he was?

When they reached the mess, Sazh showed Lightning to a table, his usual spot, he called it, and jaunted off to get them lunch.

"I can get my own food, Sazh."

"It'll be just a minute, princess."

Lightning scoffed, "I'll _princess_ you," she muttered under her breath.

The mess hall was large, practically consuming an entire floor. It was comprised of rows of benches and wooden chairs interspersed with support columns that were decorated with velvet-leaved vines. The place had a calming atmosphere, potted plants, some fake, some real, edging sitting areas on the side. There were two electric fireplaces that would sputter and crackle as if authentic. Music played through the speakers, some bluesy sound that wasn't quite Lightning's taste, but did serve to relieve some of the tension in her posture.

That sense of tranquility was counteracted by the stares she received. All eyes and ears were trained on her, not a speck of subtlety or politeness given in an attempt to conceal the relentless ogling.

_Great, how do I always manage to attract attention? It's like I'm a celebrity around here. To be fair, they probably don't meet many reawakened l'Cie. Especially not ones who brought down the government... and their home... and crystallized their loved ones... okay, just stop._

As if on cue, a man sat in front of her, or… a boyish man to be more precise. He had shaggy blonde hair that poked into his eyes. His blue coveralls were splotched with some kind of greasy oil and paint. What stood out the most about him were the goggles perched on his head. Lightning vaguely remembered him to be a part of the NORA gang. He had been a part of her stasis, a vague figure in the background around Snow.

The man looked at her with an eager gaze, like he was waiting for her to speak up. Lightning sighed, resigning herself to a conversation. "It's Maqui, right?"

He grinned, bopping his head forward. "Sure is. I wasn't sure you'd remember me. It's so cool to see another one of you guys walking around."

_Why do I feel like a dog that just showed off a trick?_

"So. You like the place? It's no Cocoon, but who needs it?" Maqui shoveled a sporkful of mashed potatoes in his mouth.

"Here ya go." Sazh slid a tray in front of her, slouching into a chair, and Lightning wasn't sure if the creaking was from the man or the chair he was sitting on.

"Heya," Maqui acknowledged around a glob of potatoes.

"How'd the proposal go?" Sazh asked, cutting into what looked like a brick of meatloaf.

"It went great, actually. Should have it up and running in a month or so." Maqui gestured emphatically as he spoke, accidentally flinging his potatoes onto the table. "Hope's plan really is something, and with some fine tuning from me it'll be ready to go in no time."

"Proposal for what?" Lightning asked, poking at each item of her tray with the plastic tines of her spork.

Sazh began to explain, but he was curtly cut off by the boy across from them. "It's basically a shield. We've been having frequent monster attacks, and since we're basically in their territory, it's not like we could have expected anything different. It's gotten worse over the past few months, alerting the higher ups and increasing the awareness of the public. The Guardian Corps can only do so much, you know?" Lightning raised a brow, causing Maqui to gulp back his words with his food. "Right, uh… The monsters are making it further into the cities every day. There were two more civilian deaths last week due to a pack of Lobos. So Hope came up with a shield invention that seems promising. I'm excited to help out with it too. I mean..." Maqui looked at Sazh with a wry smile, "I love working on your ships and all, Sazh, and all the small gadgets I put together ain't nothing either, but... I don't know. This seems more purposeful, you know?" Maqui shoved the last of his food in his mouth, chewing with squirrel cheeks.

"Hey, kid," Sazh said, sliding a carton of milk in front of Maqui, "why don't you slow down a bit there and use the teeth the Maker gave ya?"

Maqui waved him off, chugging down the offered milk and swiping an arm across his mouth. "Yeah, Yeah, Grandpa. Sorry, but I gotta get to work if I wanna get off early. I'm meeting up with Lebreau at the bar."

"Lebreau, huh?" Sazh asked, nudging Maqui with a look

"Whatever. I'll see ya later, Lightning. It was good to see you again."

It was quieter with Maqui gone, but the stares of the onlookers grew louder in his absence. "If you don't mind my prying," Lightning turned to Sazh, attempting a bite of a mound of roasted beets, "What is it that you do around here?"

"I'm a pilot. I do what pilots do best. I fly." Sazh winked. "I'm currently contracted with the Cavalry as a transport pilot. I'm due to fly them out on a mission tomorrow. It's highly classified and even I don't know where we're goin' 'til I report in in the mornin'."

Lightning nodded, keeping her curiosity about his 'highly classified' mission curled under her tongue. "What do you think I'm going to do?"

"You're our soldier girl, right? You're gonna do what soldiers do best, right?"

"I guess…" Lightning hadn't meant to sound so uncertain, but she couldn't help but wonder what role she was meant to have in a world that wasn't her own. She felt like an outsider viewing everything from behind the glass of a window seat.

Sazh put a heavy hand on Lightning's shoulder. "What's up? You look a little down."

_I feel so out of place here._

Lightning yawned, feigning crystal stasis lag. "It's nothing, just feeling a bit off, I guess. I think I'll go back to the room."

Sazh didn't appear convinced, but he didn't push. That was the thing about Sazh. He had that good-natured uncle vibe. He was an ear that listened to what was offered and nothing more. "I got some last minute things I gotta get done before I head out in the mornin'. But, hey, it was great seein' ya... and you should really find Hope. Kid's probably runnin' himself ragged, as always, but I'm sure he'll spare some time for a certain soldier." Sazh smacked a hand on her back before retreating.

Lightning glared after him, but begrudgingly did as he suggested. She pulled out her communicator and called Hope. When he didn't answer, she opted for calling Alyssa _._

_Man, I would love to punch someone right now. Never thought I'd actually miss having that big oaf around._

"Hello, Miss Farron, may I help you with something?"

"Call me Lightning. I was wondering where Hope would be. I needed to speak with him about something and he isn't answering his communicator."

"Oh, just give me a sec… He's in room 402 in the Research and Operations Sector. There are maps by the stairwells and elevators, but if you'd like, I could send an officer to escort you."

"No, that won't be necessary. Thanks for the help."

"Anytime, Mi- Lightning. Let me know if I can help you with anything else."

_Alright 'Director.' You better have a good excuse for not picking up._

* * *

Lightning hesitated in her approach, double checking the numbers stamped into the door's exterior.

 _It's_ _the room we were stored in. The room I woke up in._

With a tentative step, hand brushing over the metal handle, she pushed open the door. She stepped inside, letting the door fall shut behind her with a _cl-clink_. Hope was standing in front of Snow, staring intently at the burly man, a tangled mess of thoughts webbed into his expression.

Lightning observed him from her window seat. She could see the Hope that she knew. From his open expression, to the tilt of his head, to the way his ears would move with his thoughts. But she also had to acknowledge the Hope that was a stranger. He was different in the way he held himself, back straight, body strong, confidence in the square of his shoulders. The sheer length of him was staggering. He was no longer a dwarf beside Snow.

_You've grown well, Hope…_

Lightning cleared her throat and Hope jolted. He blinked rapidly in Lightning's direction, clearly caught off guard.

"If you keep staring at Snow like that, I'm going to have to assume that you've got a thing for my sister's fiancé," Lightning stated dryly, walking toward him as her lips twitched upwards.

"He is ruggedly handsome," Hope laughed with a shrug that lacked any form of shame. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long." Lightning reached up, poking Hope in the forehead. "You didn't answer your communicator, so I had to hunt for you."

Hope went comically cross-eyed at the touch, before what she said sunk in. "Really?" Hope's hands patted at his sides until he dug up his comm. "Aw, I'm sorry, Light. I've had it on silence since the meeting."

"Oh, really? You weren't just ignoring me?" Lightning deadpanned. Hope shook his head like a dog shaking off water. Lightning held back a laugh. "I heard it went well."

"What went well?"

"Sazh and I ran into Maqui in the mess," Lightning clarified, watching as understanding smoothed over his features.

_Glad I can still read you like a book._

"Yeah. He's very enthused about the whole deal. I mean, I am too, but I have other projects to work on…" Hope trailed off, his gaze following his voice toward their crystallized friends. "Hey, Light?"

Lightning hummed in response, her eyes still mentally comparing this Hope to the one in her memory. He was still Hope. She held no doubts about that. He may have looked like a new person, but shades of the old one remained present. His emotions had a leash now. They were far more reined in than when he was a budding teenager, but he still wore honesty like a badge. His eyes still brimmed with curiosity, but the naiveté within them had diminished. His idiosyncrasies were the same as ever, and she took comfort in that. The kid acted the same with her, showing her respect while his expression never betrayed the unrestrained admiration he felt toward her.

Hope smiled sheepishly. "What was your stasis like?"

Lightning walked over to Serah and placed a hand on her crystal. She could feel her sister beneath her hands, her presence right by her side. "Nothing fancy. It was just us. All of us together in Bodhum, as if the fall never happened. It was peaceful." She looked back at Hope, meeting his intrigued stare. "Why?"

"It's nothing," he said, staring hard at the grooves in the floor.

Lightning walked over to him and stood, waiting for him to meet her gaze. The closeness allowed her to take note of other things her initial analysis missed, like the deep, purplish circles beneath his eyes, his face drawn with obvious exhaustion.

_Maker, Hope, you need some serious rest._

Concern hardened Lightning, tongue ready to lash a reprimand, but there was something sitting on Hope. Something important. "Obviously it's not nothing if you're this lost in your thoughts."

Hope smiled a halfhearted, adult smile. But Hope never smiled like that. He didn't hide things from her like every other adult did. Lightning reminded him of that by firming her stance.

Hope sighed, shifting on his feet. "I've been researching crystal stasis and the Maker. For months I've been spending my spare time in the Academy library combing through books until I found one that gave me an idea. An outrageous and unbelievable idea, but a possible one."

"Yeah?" replied Lightning, urging him on. The intensity to Hope's gaze had her transfixed, hanging on his words. What he said next, broke the spell.

"There may be a way for us to wake those in crystal stasis."


	4. Prophecy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Within a death lies a warning.

Lightning walked the perimeter on the outskirts of Academia, scanning the area. It was only her second day out of stasis, but she felt like she needed a purpose, something to do, a goal to strive toward. That in mind, Lightning got up that morning and marched into Amodar's office to apply for a position. She was prepared for anything, needing to reenlist, train, and begin from the ground up as a private, or a grunt, the _affectionate_ term.

It was like she was a desperate teenager again, willing to do anything to prove that she could care for her sister.

Amodar grinned at her the moment she slammed the door open. His assistant was screeching at her heels about needing to make an appointment. Amodar dismissed him, offering a seat to Lightning. He said that he knew it was only a matter of time before she would report in, ready for duty. He recommended that she take a week, spend some time adjusting to the new environment, physical, political and otherwise. Then she could train before going out in the field.

Lightning, respectfully, told him that she didn't need any extra training; she was just as sharp as she had been before the fall. Amodar remained unconvinced, and she found herself having to prove herself once again. She began with training exercises that went by without fuss, her reflexes, reaction time, physical strength and aim scoring higher than her records. Next were one-on-one matches with some of his 'elites.' She had to admit, when battling a moving, breathing opponent, she could feel her stasis in her body, as if time had atrophied her muscles, dulled her senses. The beginning of her first battle raced panic down her spine. Her limbs and joints were sore, presumably from years of disuse. But Lightning was used to being the underdog, underestimated due to her age, her gender, her rank. She learned to utilize her panic, let it guide her to victory. Desperation had its uses. Her courage was her sword.

Lightning quickly recovered, regaining her usual speed and agility. The second battle progressed smoothly. By the time the call rang out, assuring Lightning's second victory, Amodar was satisfied. He gave her a new uniform, fitted with the same style, but with the new black and silver color scheme of the reformed Guardian Corps, and sent her out on guard duty.

She walked the perimeter for hours, boots kicking dust up to hover in the air. The heat was heavy, air stagnant, and sweat formed a sheen on Lightning's skin. There was little activity, just wide open spaces surrounding a thriving city. Between checking her equipment and watching the formation of her own footsteps, Lightning retreated into her thoughts.

_"There may be a way for us to wake those in crystal stasis."_

* * *

_Lightning felt Hopes words penetrate her chest with bullet-like force, shattering her ribs and piercing her heart. Lightning's time awake had been a handful of hours, at best, but she already missed her sister desperately. The gravity of Serah's crystallization had yet to set in; it didn't seem real, this reality feeling as dream-like as her stasis. Lightning had yet to wonder, to worry, to dream about how to get Serah out._

_This was… too much for Lightning to process._

_The l'Cie group thought that they just had to accomplish their focus and they would be set free. How wrong they were. They knew that becoming a l'Cie was a life sentence. Accomplishing a focus granted you longer life as a crystal until the next duty, and failure meant death as a Cieth. Their optimism, their fight against fate and unjust machinations, merely clouded their vision, or they would have foreseen their impending crystallizations._

The reality is, they could wake up anytime between tomorrow and centuries from now.

_Hope remained quiet, and Lightning ignored his presence, instead staring at Serah's face, locking up the torrent of emotions flooding her chest. She turned toward Hope, face utterly impassive, and asked him how._

_"I haven't been able to prove it yet, but that's what Rygdea and Sazh are venturing to do tomorrow. I-" Hope stopped abruptly as Lightning caressed Serah's crystallized cheek with the back of her hand._

_The chill of it reminded Lightning of ice, but there was no wetness, no slide of her fingers. Serah had been reduced to a rock incapable of determining its own fate. They all were. "Continue," Lightning said, a command in her tone that didn't escape her notice. Hope was by far her superior, but politics and hierarchy meant little to her on this subject._

_"Maybe this should wait for another time. When we're sure-"_

_"No." Lightning set her gaze back on Hope, her icy stare locked on him with determination and impatience. "You don't get to say something like that and just retreat. Spit it out."_

_Hope's hand went to his shoulder, rubbing it as he took a tentative step forward, before retaking his original position. "I shouldn't have said anything. There's nothing concrete to back up my claims and I-I just... It's really just a theory based on a few months of research."_

_"It was enough to send a team out, right?"_

_Hope heaved a sigh, turning away. "It's only because we don't have anything else to go on. It's really this or the alternative of waiting for who knows how long."_

_Lightning wanted to hit him, force his explanation out. There were times when that approach was necessary. This was not one of them. Instead, Lightning gently took hold of his shoulders and turned him back to face her. "I'd like to know," Lightning said, as calm and measured as she could manage._

_Hope bit his lip, tearing teeth against flesh until a pebble of blood formed. He shook his head, kicking his shoe against the ground. Lightning's hands never left his shoulders. She let her hands portray her confidence, her trust._

_"I found a book in an ancient Pulsian language," Hope began. "I read through dozens of books before it and came up with the same line, over and over again. I must have read it in at least six books. It seemed familiar, an itch in my brain, but I couldn't place it until I finally remembered. It was something that Orphan said." Lightning's eyes darkened, her grip tightening. "'From shattered shards, a new crystal legend will arise.' You remember, right, Light?"_

_Honestly, she didn't. Orphan had spouted off a muddled oration of nonsense that Lightning had tuned out, hoping it would never be necessary to understand. But Lightning nodded Hope onward._

_"This one book had it as an inscription on its cover. The book was titled 'Fabula Nova Crystallis,' which translates to 'The Tale of the Crystal.' It spoke of a crystal created by the Maker of Pulse, the Maker of Cocoon, and the Maker of humanity. The crystal was broken into three shards and left around Pulse. The book said that with the formation of this crystal, if all three shards were brought together as one, it would give the beholder the power of all three, Pulse, Lindzei, and Etro."_

_"So, you think that with this crystal, this power, you could use it to... decrystallize everyone?" Lightning felt disbelief tilt her brow, her hands falling back to her sides._

_Hope watched her hands leave him, smiling a tight, pitiful smile, like he knew what her reaction was going to be, and she gave it to him. "The book tells of having the power to bring back the Maker of all or Bhunivelze. I'd say it's a fair assumption that it could free l'Cie from crystal stasis."_

_Lightning drew her arms across her chest, pacing a circle around him as she absorbed that information. "So the secret mission Sazh has is..."_

_Hope shot her a furtive glance, but conceded. "They're going out to see if they can find one piece of the crystal. We figured the best place to check first is Etro's shrine, since it's closest. And we discuss our next course of action from there."_

_"What makes you so sure that you'd be able to control this power if you found it? Some things are better left untouched."_

_Hope swallowed, running a gloved hand roughly through his hair as his eyes trailed Lightning's path around him. "Well... the book alluded that it could only be controlled by those touched by the Maker. So, assuming it means l'Cie... that would be... us."_

_Lightning stopped with a huff. She was ready to rage about being stuck with more l'Cie garbage, when a question struck her. "But our brands are gone. We don't have our powers. I thought- We weren't-" Lightning pressed a hand to her forehead before dropping it. "We aren't l'Cie anymore."_

_"I know." Hope rubbed his eyes, and Lightning was reminded of his apparent exhaustion. "That's why I was so hesitant to tell you. Even if the crystal fragments exist, we would have to find all of them, find a way to meld them together, and find someone to wield it. I guess I'm hoping that maybe just because the brands are gone, and our powers as well, that it doesn't mean that some part of it isn't still inside of us. Maybe we don't have to currently be l'Cie. Maybe just having been 'touched by the Maker' is good enough." Hope peered back at Lightning. Her eyes were fixed on his._

_"Hope." Lightning knew it was a long shot. She knew he knew it was a long shot. But he was trying. Trying so desperately to free their friends and all in Cocoon._

I'm acutely familiar with that kind of desperation.

_She couldn't bring herself to drag his thoughts down any further. "If there is anyone who can find a way to free them, it's you."_

_Hope stared at Lightning, his disbelief visible with his hanging jaw._

_Lightning pushed his mouth shut. "Don't look at me like that." She glanced back at Serah and the others before walking towards the door. She grabbed the handle, but turned to Hope who was staring at her shadow. "Hope. You look exhausted. Go to bed."_

_Hope blinked until comprehension surfaced to his face in the form of a smirk. "I'm glad you're awake, Light. You have no idea how much I've missed you."_

_Lightning found herself lost in the tide of those words, in that look emboldened with earnest eyes. There was such trust there, and Lightning found herself blindsided by it. She knew Hope looked up to her, but she had no idea that within those few weeks as l'Cie, he'd become so attached. In truth, the feeling was mutual. After their rocky start, they'd surprisingly grown into a powerful team. When she left him that first time in the Vile Peaks, it was because she hadn't wanted him involved. He was just a kid and she knew that she would only succeed in getting him killed. But he insisted on following her and turned out to be an excellent battle partner._

_Lightning nodded back at Hope and left, her thoughts still consumed by his astounding growth. She continuously found herself thinking of him as that young, vulnerable boy that she had known and almost destroyed by encouraging his plot of vengeance._

But he isn't fourteen anymore. He's nineteen, leader of the last of mankind. I can't believe how much I've missed. Not only of this world, but of Hope's life.

_Lightning's stomach churned at the realization of just how much time she had missed. But she found comfort in the fact that Hope's personality seemed to uphold through his daunting transformation._

That sweet kid is still in there.

* * *

A gravelly snarl broke through Lightning's thoughts, snapping her back to her duties as a soldier. Lightning bolted toward the sound as a yell was cut short. She rounded a corner to see a guard unconscious at the base of a boulder, his body surrounded by a small pack of gorgonopsids.

Lightning ran in front of the fallen soldier, taking her stance and drawing her gunblade. The head of the pack snarled and sent a clawing strike at her. Its nails tore through the air as Lightning jumped from the spot and shot off three rounds in its direction. The bullets penetrated through its skull, killing it off instantly. Lightning brought her gunblade up above her shoulder, waiting for the next to make its move. She didn't have to wait long as the last two bounded for. Lightning maneuvered quickly around them, pivoting on her heel and slicing her gunblade deep into one's thick head with no retaliation but a final shriek. Lightning watched it fall, the last beast a blur in her periphery as it swiped a paw in her direction. Lightning tried to back flip out of its path, but she wasn't quick enough. It managed to sink its claws into her thigh, leaving three torn gashes in her flesh, blood spraying the dirt.

Lightning switched her weapon into gun mode a second too late, her leg unbalancing her at the worst moment. The gorgonopsid sprayed her with its virulent breath, a cloud of green smoke traveling into Lightning's respiratory system and sending poison throughout her body. Lightning coughed, attempting to swipe the smoke out of her eyes and cover her mouth. She could see the gorgonopsid crouch low, its horned spine arching as it prepared to pounce. Lightning needed to move, shield, strike, protect, _something_. It was coming and she couldn't lift a finger, the poison sinking into her bloodstream and deadening her limbs.

As it lunged for its final attack, Lightning was ready to face her end. She would keep struggling until her last breath. Giant, pointed teeth neared her face, claws a breath away from ripping into her torso, but a flash of yellow spun between Lightning and the gorgonopsid, smacking against the beast's face. A freezing gust of wind spun around it, ice crackling along its body until it staggered with a yelp. Lightning watched the yellow weapon, recognizing it as a boomerang, as it flew towards its owner.

_Hope? What are you doing out here?_

Hope slid to her side, pulling out a gunblade from a holster on his back. In one move, he flicked out the blade and slashed the gorgonopsid across the throat. It didn't cry out, didn't fight, just crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Lightning's vision blurred, her eyes seemingly coated in a film as all perceivable objects fuzzed. She lost the strength in her legs, falling to her knees as her body began to seize up from the poison.

"Lightning!" she heard Hope cry, but she couldn't see him, couldn't feel him even as she knew he was holding her up from the ground. Her limbs began to shake, her body convulsing. It was cold. Wasn't she just complaining about the heat? Her heart began a slow thrum, losing its battle to keep her alive. She knew how swift the poison was. Death was almost instantaneous, mere minutes of breathing room given.

She could only think, _Is this it? Is this how 'the great Lightning Farron' dies?_

She could feel something cool slip down her throat, coating her mouth with a wintergreen freshness. The heat slammed back into her full force, drawing her breath back as her heart pedaled back into motion. When her vision cleared she could see Hope kneeling beside her, an empty antidote bottle in his hand.

He always was their most reliable healer.

"Thanks," Lightning said, taking his proffered hand and letting him lift her up. Her renewed weight caused the tears in her thigh to stretch, and she hissed at the sting. "Isn't this embarrassing? Can't even take on a few gorgonopsids."

Hope winced as he knelt back down to face her wounds. "You should sit down, Light. That doesn't look good."

"You should check on him first." Lightning gestured to the soldier on the ground, the one she was supposed to have been protecting. All she accomplished was double the monster's meal.

Hope looked at her wound, teeth worrying his lip as he looked back at the soldier, then back at Lightning. "Right."

_A gunblade, Hope? I guess I didn't expect you to be using the boomerang forever, but..._

Hope slid his fingers over the soldier's pulse. He nodded and sent Lightning a thumbs up, which she assumed meant he was okay. Lightning could see that the man was still unconscious, but he landed with his arm at a bad angle. "He'll be fine," Hope said with a last nod as he called for a medic team.

His words on their location, the exact coordinates, dimmed into the background as Lightning stared down at torn flesh. Her own skin and blood. Maybe she was rustier than she thought.

"You okay, Light?"

Lightning didn't acknowledge the question. She heard it, but she found herself staring at the fallen monster, thinking about what it would have felt like. The gorgonopsid's nails in her chest, its teeth biting down on her throat. That last moment…

Could she find Serah somewhere in there, in that rift between life and death?

"Light?" She could feel warmth on her cheeks. Fingers. Gloved fingers caressing the sides of her face, her chin cupped between two palms. Vibrant green eyes swallowed her vision, growing larger in their concern.

Hope was holding her face. At the realization, Lightning went rigid before she shook his hands off. "Really, it's fine. I'm fine." He continued looking her over for other injuries, ignoring her words. "Really, Hope, I'm fine." She stood to make her point and tried to deflect the conversation elsewhere. "When did you start using a gunblade?" She pulled it out of his holster and looked it over. It had a longer reach than hers, but held a similar weight and build. She went to switch modes and was shocked at how effortless the transformation was. Lightning smirked. "I guess you did grow out of the toy. Well, not completely."

Hope chuckled. "I still use the _toy_ on occasion. It comes in handy for far enemies, but is definitely not meant for close combat. I started training with this yeas ago. I've made a lot of my own improvements on it, to the chagrin of our weapons development department." He took the blade from her hand, flicking it closed and nestling it back between his shoulder blades. "I'm not nearly as proficient with it as you, but who is?" Hope smiled, a smug thing as he crossed his arms and looked back down at her with a cocked head.

"Resorting to flattery?" Lightning rolled her eyes. "Just who do you think you're talking to?"

The medics arrived soon after and rushed the unconscious soldier to the hospital. Lightning ignored Hope's protests and refused to go anywhere, leaving the medics little choice but to stitch her up and leave.

"Maker, I don't know why you have to be so stubborn." Hope's eyes travelled out across Pulse. Lightning's gaze followed, watching the sun melt into the horizon as dusk descended. "Light, you really should have gone with them. Wha-"

Lightning put a finger to his lips. "It's nice that you care so much, but I'm fine." He went cross-eyed to stare at the finger, eyes wide and cheeks flushing. Lightning dropped her hand at the flood of warmth spreading across her own face before turning away. "Seriously. Don't you have some work to be getting to?"

Lightning flicked a glance back Hope's way to watch as a grin morphed into a dejected frown. "Aw, you're in stasis for five years and I finally get to spend some time with you, but you want me to leave? Fine." His shoulders slumped as he blew out a sigh, kicking the dirt. "I see how it is." He turned back towards the city, but Lightning grabbed his jacket.

"Why were you out here?"

"I came out to check on you. You know, it... was your first day back on the job," Lightning crossed her arms and it was like he could sense her displeasure, his voice coiling with uncertainty as he scratched the back of his neck, "and I-"

"Director!"

The two turned to find Alyssa scaling a hill to wave at them, before sliding down to their sides. She held her knees, panting. She made a small, affirmative hum, patted her knees, and gave Hope an exasperated look as she put her hands on her hips. "I just found out what happened. How did you get away from the guards?"

Lightning glanced at Hope.

"Bodyguards," Hope clarified. "Honestly, Alyssa, they're unnecessary. Especially if I can slip past them unnoticed."

Alyssa pursed her lips, looking them over with barely concealed skepticism before gasping at Lightning's bandaged leg. She arrested Hope's arm, dragging him back in the direction from which she'd appeared. "It's not safe out here."

"Alright, alright," Hope yielded. He wrestled his arm free and turned back to Lightning. "You comin', Light?"

"In a bit."

Hope laughed as he walked back towards base with Alyssa. "Just don't wait too long. Wouldn't want to have to be rescued again," Hope yelled over his shoulder. He took off at a brisk pace, Alyssa trailing behind him with a nasally, " _Director~_!"

Lightning scowled at his retreating form.

_When did he get so damn cocky? He says that and then runs off, his assistant clinging to his heels…I have half a mind to- Oh, like it matters. He's not a kid anymore. That's for sure. He can do what he wants. But when did he get the nerve to tease me?_

Lightning sighed and walked in their footsteps when the soldier to replace her came.

* * *

The crystal Cocoon towered over Academia, the sun's last rays reflecting prismatic colors across the ground. It was a ball of ice, looking as desolate and dead as the moon behind it. It was a difficult truth to swallow that there were people inside of it. A world of their kind sat frozen in time, waiting for the day that they would be set free.

Lightning stopped, staring at the world that looked as fragile as a beating heart without its body. Lightning's own heart responded, heavy in her ribcage. "I'm sorry," Lightning whispered, head low, unable to look into Cocoon's glossy shine any longer. She marched forward through the barrage of memories of Vanille and Fang that assailed her. Vanille, with her relentlessly sunny disposition. Fang, with her incredible fearlessness and strength that even Lightning could not match. Although her time with the Oerban women had been short, they left a large imprint on her life, just as the others had.

Her reminiscing led her thoughts back to her stasis dreams that she longed for. Those simple days of laughter and love.

_Now what is there? Hope's working himself to death, Fang and Vanille are trapped with the weight of the world on their shoulders, and Serah is still-_

She couldn't finish that thought. All it did was slam open the floodgates to the depths of her emotions, releasing her past guilt and regrets. She despised herself for not believing her sister about being a l'Cie. The moment Serah had told her, Lightning had basically called her a target.

_How could I have said such things? How could she ever forgive me?_

For the briefest of seconds, Lightning was grateful that Serah was a crystal. Lightning didn't want to know how her sister would feel towards her, if she would want to speak with her, face her. Or if she would run away with Snow, leave the remnant of a broken family and replace it with a new one.

_No, I want my sister with me. I want her awake. Even if she hated me until the end of time... I miss her._

About a mile into the city, still tracing Hope's path, Lightning heard a scream. It echoed off of the surrounding buildings, caused birds to scatter into the sky. Lightning slowed her breathing, listening for another scream and when it came, she sped to its origin. The scream reverberated in Lightning's chest, sounding of fear, of pain, and she pushed her injured leg on. She entered a more desolate quadrant of the city, buildings half-formed, tarps blowing almost eerily on the wind.

A handful of minutes led Lightning to the outskirts of town by a hollowed out home. Lightning came upon a young girl on the ground. Lightning ran to her, keeling down as she took the girl's prone body into her arms. She couldn't have been older than a teenager.

_She's about Serah's age._

The girl had dulling, innocent green eyes that were wild with terror. Long, coral blue hair framed a pale, heart-shaped face. Her tattered white and purple outfit was stained with blood and dirt. The most disturbing observation that Lightning made was the status of her health, abuse apparent on her body. There were multiple cuts, bruises and burns, her fingers bent at sharp, unnatural angles. The girl's labored breathing wheezed in and out of her throat. As Lightning held her hand, the soldier found a weak pulse, fluttery as a butterfly taking flight.

Lightning's first instinct led her to Hope. Her fingers dialed, stumbling over buttons in her haste. She told him her location and to call a med team. When she hung up, she turned back to the girl, gripping onto her with little certainty that what she had done could save her. The girl's breathing was slowing and her consciousness began fading with the flickering of her eyelids, in and out, in and out.

"Hold on, someone's coming to help you. Can you tell me your name?" Lightning scooted the girl up closer in her arms, rocking her in smooth motions despite the panic rising inside of her.

The girl's eyelids fluttered before she focused on Lightning. She attempted to speak, but choked out a number of harsh coughs into her hand. Blood dripped from her paling lips, smearing across her fingers. "It's Yeul," she rasped, sounding far older than Lightning had expected. The girl gasped, her eyes flashing as her body seized up in Lightning's arms.

"Just hold on." Lightning gripped onto the girl, _Yeul_ , cursing her own powerlessness. Lightning looked around, eyes frantically searching for someone, anyone that could help. A part of her searched inside for her l'Cie powers, though she knew that they could no longer heed her call. Right then, Lightning realized how vulnerable and alone she was. She had no magic to draw from, no teammates at her back, and Odin's presence was no longer inside of her. All she could do was comfort the dying girl in her arms and pray that the med team would reach them before her end.

Yeul gave her one last look, trembling before jerking forward and grabbing Lightning's face tightly with both of her calloused, yet gentle hands. Fiery green orbs looked directly into Lightning's eyes as Yeul spoke in a hushed whisper, "Only through his suffering, can humanity prevail."

"What..." But she didn't answer. Her body went limp in Lightning's grasp. Yeul's arms fell to her sides as her breathing stopped. Lightning shook her, hoping to rouse some sort of response, a wheeze, a breath, a twitch. She couldn't just die.

_Not like this._

"Who's suffering? Yeul?!"

But Yeul was gone.

Her body laid lifeless in Lightning's arms.


	5. Unspoken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mystery, a quarrel, and a looming threat.

Rain fell softly, a mist obscuring the landscape, drowning out color and life.

Yeul's body laid on the ground, the rain slowly rinsing the blood from her skin. It cleansed her body, as if nothing had happened. Her hands were folded on her stomach, eyelids closed, heels together, a corpse's pose.

Help was coming. Hope was coming. But they were too late. Lightning brought her knees up under her chin, holding them to her body as she tried to keep herself together.

 _Where does..._ did _she come from? Why was she out here? What could have attacked her? Those wounds... Was it a person? Does she have a family?_

"Only through his suffering," Lightning spoke, testing the words on her lips, "can humanity prevail."

_What did she mean? Who's suffering? How would she..._

Lightning brought her eyes up from the clumps of mud beneath her boots. Back up to Yeul's still, lifeless body. Her face was serene, innocent. It was a stark contrast to the wounds that marred her body. Lightning couldn't help but feel a sharp twinge in her gut.

_Her face... She looks so much like..._

* * *

The minute Hope heard her voice, he felt his stomach heave upwards into his throat. Lightning was quickly, breathlessly telling him that she found a wounded girl. That she needed help. He turned to Alyssa, telling her to call a med team as he relayed Lightning's location.

"What happened?" he yelled into the phone.

_What on Pulse could have happened in the past twenty minutes since I last saw her?_

All he received was static. The line had gone dead. Hope cursed at his comm, bolting from his spot.

"What are you doing?" he heard Alyssa screech. "It's not safe. You don't know what-"

"Just keep calling, Alyssa! I'll be fine." Hope kept running. He didn't look back, only forward, knowing that if anything happened to Lightning, after he'd just gotten her back, he'd never forgive himself.

The mist became a shower, traveling on the wind like waves. Hope kept wiping the rain out of his eyes, boots slipping in the grass and mud. It was at times like this that Hope missed Cocoon, its regularly scheduled weather patterns and predictable time shifts. Between the rain and the swift descent of night, Hope could barely see five feet in front of him, but he ran. His lungs burned, begging him to stop. He skidded around a building and slipped into a tree. His body bounced off of it, down onto the ground.

He wasn't going to let anyone else close to him get hurt.

_I can't lose anyone else._

That was his only thought as he pushed himself back up.

Hope came upon the back of a half built house, and as much as his body protested, he ran faster. As he rounded the building, he saw Lightning sitting curled up in front of a body on the ground. He skidded to a stop beside her, gulping in air. He struggled to speak, his lungs starved and consonants crashing together on his tongue. Hope drew a deep, stuttered breath and started over, managing a, "What happened," as he knelt down.

Lightning didn't look at him. Just stared forward. Hope followed her gaze to the body before her. He leaned over the body, this broken, doll-like girl, his fingers poised to check her pulse, but Lightning grabbed his wrist.

"She's dead," Lightning said before letting him go.

Hope's eyes scanned over the body. There were so many wounds, intention in their pattern. Hope's first thought after Lightning told him what happened was that it was another monster attack involving a civilian, but this...

_This was done by a human. A different kind of monster entirely._

_And Lightning…_

She was motionless, her face blank, reminding him of the stoic soldier she always pretended to be. There was blood smeared down her uniform, on her hands and her face. He deduced that it was the girl's since Lightning had no visible wounds or outward manifestations of pain. He put a hand on her shoulder, feeling her shiver at his touch. "Light, are you alright?"

The question settled across Lighting's face, flickered with her eyelids. Hope kept silent, but his eyes pleaded with her to give him answers. "I couldn't help her." Lightning shuddered as she spoke, but her own words seemed to ground her. She grimaced, wiping the wetness from her face.

Hope couldn't believe it, the tiny, helpless sound coming out of Lightning. Lightning, of all people, a paragon of strength.

_What happened?_

Lightning collected herself and stood. Hope followed, locking his gaze with hers. "I heard a scream," Lightning said. "She was laying on the ground when I found her. She died shortly after I called."

Hope swallowed. Lightning's voice was devoid of emotion. She stared ahead, over Yeul's body, like she wasn't there. The med team arrived before Hope could reply, followed by a Guardian Corps car and a few soldiers on cycles.

Any more questions would have to wait.

* * *

Three hours passed. Lightning, Hope, and Alyssa had given their statements. They sat together in a small sitting room in G.C. headquarters, encompassed in silence. Lightning sat in a chair, staring at the coffee in her hands that had long since turned cold. Hope sat across from her on an aged couch, his eyes prodding at her with his concern. Alyssa sat on the other end of the couch, fingers twittering in her lap.

Lightning let her mind run blank, hovering in space. She was grateful for the quiet and the end of the extensive questioning. She didn't want to talk anymore, not to them, not to Hope. Especially Hope. He'd seen too much of her vulnerability. He'd come to help her before she'd had time to build up her shield and it irritated her.

Just when she thought that she might be able to get through the rest of the day without having to explain herself to him, he stood. Hope walked to her chair, knelt down, and pulled something from his pocket.

His green and black bandana from their l'Cie days.

_He kept that old thing._

There was uncertainty in the lines of his face as he held it out to Lightning. "You have some-some blood on your face." Lightning slid her fingertips across her cheek, feeling a foreign, crusty splotch. She attempted a smile, accomplished more of a grimace, and took the cloth from his hand.

Alyssa bounced up. "Oh, here." She wrestled in her side pouch, smiling at Lightning as she walked a compact over to her. "You can use the mirror," Alyssa suggested, pointing a finger at it.

"Thanks," Lightning flipped the compact open, relieved to see the soldier projected back at her, not the weak sister that she felt like. After she had finished, she handed Alyssa back her compact and met Hope's probing gaze. "I'll get this cleaned up and return it to you."

"No problem, Light." Hope nodded, running a hand through his hair. He was about to speak when a soldier knocked on the door before entering.

The three rose as a female soldier entered. The woman nodded at each of them in acknowledgment. "Director, Sergeant Farron, if you'll come with me, please." She turned toward Alyssa with one of those practiced, professional smiles, "You are free to go."

"Um... alright," Alyssa replied and turned to Hope with an expectant gaze.

"La Salle," Hope said to the woman, "how long will this take?"

"I wasn't informed."

Hope's expression tensed, jaw locking. "Alyssa... just hold the fort 'til I get back." He gave her a smile that stretched his face too wide.

"Of course, Director."

Hope waited until the door slipped shut behind Alyssa. "Okay, Nivien, what's this about? Why have we been waiting for-"

"Are you two friends?" Lightning asked, sensing a familiarity between the two.

Hope rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh.

"Yes," Nivien said, eyes stabbing back at Hope before she held out her hand to Lightning. "Lieutenant Nivien La Salle."

Lightning took her hand, surprised by the steel grip. La Salle was a dark skinned woman with vivid brown hair tied back in a small, professional ponytail. Her hazel eyes held a sharp intensity, a gaze that cut straight into a person. She was about an inch shy of Lightning's height and looked young for the rank of Lieutenant.

Nivien held herself soldier-straight and looked to Hope. "It has to do with the dead civilian, but the general has been dealing with another matter. I was sent to collect you so you could speak with him." She turned promptly on her heel and led them down the hall.

"All business today, La Salle?" Hope asked. "It's been what... a month since we've spoken?"

"Two... actually." Lightning rose a brow at the scathing reply and Hope's wince in return. "We're busy people, right?" Nivien muttered.

Hope clamped his teeth down on the side of his cheek, glancing at Lightning who pretended to stare straight ahead. The two had a history, that Lightning could see. It was somewhat amusing from an outsider's point of view, but also none of her business. She turned her thoughts inward.

_I got clawed by a beast, had to be rescued by Hope, and was unable to save a civilian. Great job, Farron. What a perfect soldier you are._

They were led into a conference room. At the center was an oval-shaped, oak table that sat eighteen. Lightning and Hope took their seats at opposite sides of the table. Nivien poured coffee into two paper cups from a beverage station and brought them over. She handed Lightning her cup first.

"... Thank you, Lieutenant." Lightning gave a stiff nod, uncomfortable with a superior officer fetching her coffee.

Nivien flashed her a trained smile, that same one that she had given Alyssa, one Lightning used for most of her life. "No problem, Sergeant." Nivien then went behind Hope and put the coffee down in front of him, jerking him forward into the table as she leaned over his chair.

Hope's jaw slackened, scooting himself back from where the coffee swished over the edge of his cup and splashed against the table. He quickly recovered and turned to face Nivien, but she was already walking toward the door.

"I know it can't be easy to refrain from working for a prolonged amount of time, but hopefully the general knows not to keep the busy _Director_ waiting." Lightning felt her eyebrows pitch upwards as Hope looked at the lieutenant's back in shock. Without so much as a glance back, Nivien left the room.

Lightning's curiosity peeked. Hope was left staring at the door with a mixture of awe and confusion. His gaze fell back to the table, tracing the wood-like patterns. Around circle after circle. He didn't look back at Lightning.

"Okay, what was that all about?" Lightning asked, because Hope didn't look ready to volunteer the information.

Hope cast his eyes warily over her, clenching his jaw. "Really, it's nothing."

"Hope, I'm not stupid."

There was a knock on the door, prefacing General Amodar's entrance. The two stood, Lightning with a custom salute. He smiled and shook her's and Hope's hands before motioning for them to sit down. "I'm terribly sorry for keeping you waiting," Amodar began, sitting at the head of the table, nearest to them. "It's well into the night, but we have some matters to discuss before we can hit the hay."

"Of course, General," Hope said, "really it's no trouble."

"How are you, Farron? You had a much more… eventful first day than either of us anticipated, I'm sure."

"I'm fine, sir. I'm very sorry for-"

"You have nothing to apologize for. You did your job," Amodar said, tone yielding for no further comment on the subject. There was another knock at the door, which Amodar seemed to have been expecting. "Come in," he bellowed.

A short, slender man with a receding hairline walked into the room. He had bulky, horn-rimmed glasses and a white medical coat over business attire. There was a brown file in his grasp that he clutched onto so tightly that his hands shook.

"Ah, thanks for coming, Torkin." Amodar gestured toward the table, waiting as the man took a seat a few chairs from Hope. "This is Sergeant Lightning Farron and I'm sure you know of our brilliant Director Hope Estheim." Torkin's gaze was already trained on Hope, wonder in his features. "And this is Viktor Torkin, Chief Medical Examiner."

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Hope greeted. "Although... I thought Carline Abernathy was the-"

"She was," Amodar replied gruffly, "but she retired a few weeks ago. Torkin was recently promoted to her position."

"Well, in that case, congratulations, Dr. Torkin." Hope stood to shake his hand.

Torkin got up so quickly that he caught his knee on the edge of the table, but he went on unfazed, excitedly accepting the gesture with a vigorous shake. "Please, call me Viktor. It's an honor, a true honor to meet you, Director."

_Apparently Alyssa was right. He is admired by many. Even by those that operate on dead people._

Hope just laughed, "Call me Hope."

They both took their seats as Amodar said, "Right, well..." He shifted in his chair, sitting forward. "We started an investigation into the deceased, but seeing as it's only been roughly over three hours we haven't yielded many results. Only time will tell. Hopefully someone missing the poor girl will be searching for her. Until then, we will investigate the possible events leading to her death. I asked Dr. Torkin to examine her body as quickly as possible and meet with us."

Torkin nodded, before realizing that that was his signal to speak and hurriedly flipped open his file. "Yes... um..." Torkin looked up nervously, clearing his throat. "We can postulate within reason that the deceased was subjected to torture. She-she had multiple deep lacerations made by a seven and a quarter inch serrated blade along with several smaller cuts caused by a three inch knife. She also had burns of varying severity in different stages of healing. Some scorch marks..." Torkin paused, wetting his thumb to flip a page, "they appear to have been inflicted by a... a- hand.

"She also had several electrical burns. There were approximately fourteen bruises from her torso to her ankles. Three fingernails were torn from her right hand on her thumb, forefinger and pinkie. There were… _lumps_ beneath her skin. Foreign objects that the skin had grown over. When examined, they were revealed to be teeth. None of the deceased's teeth were missing, but we will trace dental records to find who they belong to. I was also able to determine, by the severe dehydration and lack of vitamin D in her system, that she shows signs of being held in captivity for weeks, quite possibly months. The abrasions on her knees and feet were deep, but fresh, so she most likely acquired those after having escaped or when freed. The extent of the abrasions shows that she could have been running for miles over rocky terrain and through brush," Torkin finished, closing the file and folding his hands on top of it.

Lightning stared at the file. She had only listened to its contents and it sickened her, made her want to wretch. She was horrified. Yeul's visible wounds told of trauma, but all of that was… far too much for Lightning to wrap her brain around. The cuts, the burns, the terror she must have felt as she ran and screamed only to collapse to the ground. Lightning could imagine her running, her distress. She could remember her screams as clouds began to roll in over the plains. Lightning had to shut her eyes to stop her thoughts from bleeding toward Serah.

_If that had happened to her…_

"Holy Etro," Hope uttered, his expression pained as his hand tightened into a fist atop the table. Anger trembled along his frame, and Lighting wondered if she had ever seen him this angry about someone other than his mother.

"We aren't finished with the examination," Torkin continued, "not by a long shot, but I will have more results for you by tomorrow afternoon."

"Thank you," Amodar said, "for your quick report. I'm shocked you could observe and discern so much in a flick of time."

The man beamed, adjusting his glasses as he stood. "The report is far from complete, but I am a fast worker."

"May I have a copy of your current file?"

Torkin jumped and slid the folder toward him. "Of course, brought that one just for you. Um... it was a sincere pleasure to meet you, Hope and-" He turned to Lightning, blinking. "Farron, was it?"

Lightning inwardly sighed. "Yes. It was nice to meet you, too."

Hope smiled, "Don't work too hard. I hope to see you again sometime soon, just... under far better circumstances."

"Of course." He bowed to Hope, then Lightning, then Hope again before making his way to the door. "General."

"Doctor," replied Amodar, nodding back as Torkin bowed his way out of the room. Amodar opened the file and sifted through its thin contents with a frown. "So, Farron, I know you already went through this, but if you wouldn't mind going over the events again..."

Lightning straightened in her seat. "Of course. I was walking back to base after I was relieved-"

"This was after the gorgonopsid incident with Director Estheim, correct?"

"Yes, sir. He had already gone back to base before me. I was walking back when I heard a scream. I followed it and I found the girl on the ground." Her words caught just slightly, hitching in her throat when her mind caught an image of Serah before she dispelled it. "I called Hope- Director Estheim and gave him my location and requested a med team. I relayed to the girl that help was coming... and I asked her for her name, but-"

"Did you ask her what happened? How she got there?"

Lightning's jaw tightened at the perceived impatience, but she remained calm.

_He's my superior... and this is Amodar... He's just trying to be thorough._

"No, she could barely get out her name, so I didn't press for anything else."

Amodar glanced over at Hope, who was watching his hands in his lap, and nodded. "Continue."

"She said that her name was Yeul." Hope's eyes darted up to Lightning, a flare of recognition sparking in his expression. "She was quiet for a few seconds, but it was like..." Lightning knitted her brow, sifting through her brain to find the right words, "like something struck her. Her body stiffened as she gasped. The next thing I knew she had her hands on my face and she was... whispering... to me. She said 'Only through his suffering, can humanity prevail.' Then she was gone."

Amodar brought his elbows to the table, resting his chin on steepled fingers. "Those words were her very last?"

"Yes, sir. The way she said them, though... it was so... definite... like it was some sort of-"

Hope jumped up from his seat, startling Lightning as he blurted, "Prophecy!" with a snap of his fingers, captured in some sort of ah-ha moment.

Lightning shot him a baffled look and nodded.

"Something you'd like to share?" Amodar asked.

Hope guppied for a moment, turning sheepish, bowing apologetically toward Lightning for his interruption. He returned to his seat. "Actually, yes. There was something I read about when I was researching the crystals. The... Yeul-she... her clothes didn't look customary for neither Academia nor Sanctum City. In fact they looked-"

"Pulsian," Lightning said in realization.

"Yes. In several books that I've come across, there were references to one of the oldest known tribes on Pulse, the Farseers. They lived long before the War of Transgression and may possibly still be alive today since they became nomadic shortly before the war occurred. Throughout all of the generations in the Farseer tribe, their leader was always Yeul. She was a young woman - a seeress that had visions. These visions were prophecies of events to come. This foresight, however, has a consequence." Hope swallowed, pinching his lips between his teeth. "The visions ultimately kill Yeul, but she is then reborn into the tribe to rule again."

Amodar leaned back in his chair, digesting the information with the turn of his fingers. "And you think that this girl is her? This... Yeul from the Farseer tribe?"

"It's quite possible. Although it begs the question of how someone would get a hold of her. Yeul always had a guardian..." He brought a hand to his chin, unspoken questions and hypotheses flitting across his eyes. "I'm certain from what I remember... that her guardian was always a l'Cie with their focus set solely on her protection and safety. Also why would someone even want to torture her...? For her visions?"

"So, whoever took her," Lightning guessed, "had to have been powerful enough to battle a l'Cie. Not to mention said l'Cie would give all they had into her protection, knowing their own life is on the line."

"Hmm. Say we aren't making assumption on top of assumption," Amodar's lips thinned, and Lightning remembered just how little Amodar liked assumptions and inferences. "If it was her... then what she said very well could have been a prophecy. According to said possible 'prophecy,' someone's... suffering - other than this girl's, of course - will provide our race with victory? In some unknown way?"

"And this is why I dislike all of this magic crap," Lightning griped. "Suffering people, cryptic prophecies, nothing good comes out of it."

Hope flashed a crooked grin.

Amodar stood, stabbing a finger down into the file. "How should we handle this?" he asked Hope.

That question threw Lightning. It was not the question per se, but the inquirer and the receiver. It was only then, as her superior looked to Hope for guidance, that it hit Lightning just how high Hope's position was. He could not only command her, but Amodar, and every other person in all of Academia.

Hope was their leader.

Hope sucked his lip between his teeth, gnawing his thoughts into it. "I think that we should investigate what we can. Dr. Torkin can see if there is anything on his end that can identify her origin. We can put her picture up on the news in case she is from here and someone recognizes her. Also we should send Hildough to Sanctum City. Make sure she isn't from there either, and see if they know anything about this."

"And if they do, but deny any involvement?"

"It's likely. They rarely cooperate with our requests, even from a proven non-l'Cie and reasonable man such as our representative, but we will have tried. As for the prophecy... I'll do some more digging on the Farseers and their leader. However, as much as I dislike the thought of waiting until something happens, we are probably going to have to do just that."

Amodar walked over to the young Director and squeezed his shoulder in reassurance. "Alright. I'll see you sometime soon then." He shook Hope's hand. "And I'll see you in a few days, Farron."

_You're putting me on leave?!_

A protest was on the tip of her tongue, but his stern look silenced her.

"I won't hear it, Farron. You had a week's worth of a day. Rest up. You've got a four day leave as of now. Goodnight, you two."

Hope and Lightning stood just as Amodar was replaced with Nivien. "Your car is here, sir." Her look gentled toward Lightning, "I can have a cab called for you if you'd like?"

"It's alright," Lightning replied. "I'll walk."

"Are you sure?" asked Nivien. "It's quite a distance back to the Academy base."

"It's fine."

As soon as they were out of the building, Hope took Lightning's arm into his own. "You know I'm not going to let you walk all the way back, right?"

"And how exactly," Lightning tugged herself out of his grip, settling a hand on her hip, "are you going to stop me?"

Hope smiled and put his hands up in surrender, shaking his head. "You got me there. Guess I'm going to have to walk with you."

"Hope." She looked at his smug smile and knew he wasn't backing down. "Fine."

Hope pulled open the car door before bowing, "After you, milady."

Lightning rolled her eyes, ruffling his hair before getting in the car.

* * *

The car ride was silent, as it always was for Hope. He never liked having a driver, making someone work for his own selfish benefit. Sitting in the back of someone else's car as they drove him around made him feel less like a leader and more like the spoon fed brat everyone accused him of being. But it was a part of his job, sitting uselessly in his car, being driven to and fro, protected by guards, people who would die to protect him. On a normal day, Hope would have utilized this time to work, to peruse through legal documents, read through briefings or blueprints. Almost every time he would fall asleep, only to be woken by the kind hand of his driver.

This time sleep was the furthest from his mind. His hands empty, mind whirring like an overused cog, his thoughts revolved around Lightning. She was staring out at the city, lights and people a blur as they passed. Hope narrowed his eyes, attempting to catch a glimpse of Lightning's expression, some window into her mind. Hope knew that that was a window rarely left open. Her reflection held nothing, a chin settled on a palm, the fringe of her bangs concealing any tells from Hope's inspection.

Hope usually took comfort in the quiet, reveled in it to ruminate in his thoughts. Lightning's face was at the forefront of those thoughts, her expression as she stared at Yeul. It cycled his mind back to peering at Lightning. It was like the purge all over again. He watched as Lightning lost Serah to crystal. The look on her face was the same, expression a replica as she stared at Yeul. Like a ghost of regret had come back to haunt her.

"Lightning, I-"

"Who's Hildough?" Lightning asked, and Hope bit down on his tongue.

"He's our Ambassador. Reuben Hildough is the representative of Academia. He handles any affairs involving the Sanctum City." Lightning remained quiet, nodding once in response. Hope clenched his jaw before charging forward. "Light... I would like to know something. What really happened today?"

"I already told you everything that happened."

"You know that's not what I-"

"It was nothing."

He rubbed his gloved hands on his thighs, each press against weather-worn fabric firming his resolve. Hope wanted to help her. If he could. But he knew how Lightning got when people wandered too close. How she treated Snow for dating her sister. How she treated Hope as he followed behind her. He didn't want to be swatted away when she had only just woken up. After so much silence, after years of staring at her crystallized form, Hope wanted it back.

That bond of friendship that they had forged before Cocoon fell.

The car pulled to a stop in front of the Academy building. Slim fingers tugged on the door handle, Lightning sliding one leg out as the door gave.

"Please, Light?" Hope reached out, caught her arm, felt as her muscles stiffened within his grasp. "I just want to help."

She wrenched her arm out of his grip. "Stop it, Hope. It's not your problem and it's nothing you can fix."

"I-"

"Just stop, okay?"

She turned toward him, and Hope felt every retort crawl back down his throat. Her words were sharp, a dagger lashing out, but it was her emotion-wrought expression that shut Hope down. Her eyes were pink, eyelids puffy, face contorted into something much rawer than Hope had ever witnessed before.

Hope didn't understand it. He didn't get any of it.

"Just leave it be."

* * *

Lightning threw the door open, jumped out of the car, and slammed the door shut on Hope's pleas for her to wait. Lightning fumed, anger wisping off of her as she stormed into the building.

_Why can't you leave it alone? Why can't you just move on?_

_Tsk, guess I should be saying that to myself._

Lightning huffed her way into the elevator. Her thumb hovered over the button for the sixth floor where her apartment was located. She pushed the fourth instead.

_I'm sorry, Hope. You have much bigger problems to deal with than my emotional state. I just need to see her. Everything will be fine once I see her._

She stepped into the room and stopped, staring at the crystal statues of her friends, her family. The door clicked shut behind her and Lightning sprang toward her sister's side. Serah was so cold, so solid as Lightning slipped her hands over stiff crystal. Her confines betrayed everything that Serah was. Warm, soft, cheerful. The only likeness this statue held was her smile, kind and serene. Lightning hated this. She wanted Serah to be alive, glomping Lightning with all of her love and affections even when Lighting didn't want it. Frustration beat the tears out of her. Pressing her forehead against her sister's side, Lightning could only apologize.

"I'm so sorry, Serah. I'm supposed to be strong, not this sappy mess. I'm a soldier, goddammit! I've seen plenty of death. But... this..." Lightning choked, hitting her forehead against her sister. Her sister that was always there. Through everything. She had finally gotten her back... "It was just too much. She looked so much like... I thought I'd lost you, Serah." Serah's face had a brilliant blue glow, and Lightning could imagine that that was how crystals laughed, or cried. "For a moment there, I thought she was you. Just, please come back, Serah."

Serah was only a crystal. She couldn't laugh, or cry, or feel, or hear.

She couldn't see her sister's sobs.

"I need my sister. I need you."

By the time Lightning left the stasis room the sky held a dusky purplish hue outside of the Academy windows. A hint of sun highlighted the horizon with blues hastening to dawn. Lightning rubbed at her eyelids, wrinkled and worn and fatigued. The backs of her hands felt like scratch pads against the rawness of her skin.

Lightning wasn't looking forward to sleep, knowing that she would only wake up to dry eyes with toast-crust in the corners, and a half hazy memory of her stasis lingering within her. She was almost to her room, but stopped as she came upon a sleeping lump in front of her door.

A lump by the name of Hope.

Lightning was constantly amazed by how little Hope had changed. His sleeping face reminded her of Serah's, calm and content. He twitched with his dreams, mouthing words that Lightning couldn't make out. Her mind thrust her back to their first journey together, when it was the two of them adjusting to their partnership. Him sleeping against a rock, trusting Lightning, a complete stranger, to watch out for him while he slept.

She hated having to wake him up, but she knew he'd been there to see her. He probably figured that she had ignored him, fell asleep waiting for her to poke her head out. Lightning's stomach lurched at the thought. She bent down, brushing her hand against his cheek. "Hope."

His eyes fluttered open before bulging, his body jumping up from his position. "S-sorry Light. I-I was-s just..."

Lightning stood up, unlocking her door while ignoring her stuttering companion. "Just come in already."

Hope nodded and walked in after her, shutting the door behind himself and coming to a halt. The toe of his shoe turned over a fragment of Lightning's busted lamp. He cut a look over to Lightning, brow bent in question.

"I forgot about that." She'd neglected the mess the night before, not wanting to deal with the consequences of her anger. And again this morning she left it in her haste to work. "I got mad yesterday." Lightning flipped the light switch and dropped onto the couch.

"Maybe I can fix it," Hope suggested, mouth scrunched to the side as he looked over the metal neck that was bent at a 45 degree angle.

"Don't bother," Lightning replied with a wave of her hand, surprised at how dead and scratchy she sounded, like overused vinyl. The day sunk its fangs into her, draining her of any energy and resolve she had. She was in no mood to dance around issues. "How long were you out there?"

Hope walked the lamp over to the garbage can, thunking it out of existence. Swiping his hands together, he sat beside her, his gaze unwavering as it homed in on her. "Since we got back."

"I wasn't here." There was still that same look in his eyes from the car, of pity that she didn't care for, of concern that she didn't want. Family was inconvenient like that. Serah had giggled when Lightning voiced her opinion.

" _That's love, sis. Frustrating and inconvenient and stubborn. Sounds like a little somebody I know."_

Hope had done nothing but help her, support her, and be kind to her since she'd woken up. _Hell, almost since we met._ He deserved an explanation for her bitterness toward him previously.

"Look, Light, I'm sorry. I-"

"Save it. I'm the one who should apologize. I treated you like dirt for doing nothing to me. I was... trying to forget what happened." She averted her gaze from him. Instead it skipped from piece to piece of broken porcelain. Her discomfort rose into her chest, beat into her ribs

_Slashing and hacking through monsters would be preferable to this._

Hope gently laid his hand over hers. "Forget what, Light?"

Lightning withheld her instinct to pull back from someone poking into her personal bubble. The touch was reassuring. The kind of relaxant she had been looking for from Serah, warm and soft.

Most importantly Hope was there. Right beside her.

Lightning took his hand in hers, the quick action making Hope's fingers twitch in her grasp. "You know it's not easy for me to... express myself. So when you kept insisting in the car, I snapped. I know you were just curious and worried, but I didn't want to talk about it."

He squeezed her hand, knuckles shifting between knuckles. "It's alright. I shouldn't have pressed you. Do you still not want to talk about it?"

Lightning felt the certainty of Hope's grip, the care in the motion of his fingers. She wasn't sure why, but she wished that they could lose the gloved barrier between them.

"It was nothing. That girl... Yeul, she... reminded me of..."

"Serah," Hope finished, a quiver on his breath like he was standing in the stasis room with them, staring at unseeing, unfeeling faces.

"Yes. I thought that I'd failed her again. I felt like I couldn't protect her."

Hope grasped Lightning's chin, turning her to face him. "You did protect her. Serah is safe, crystallized, but safe. Thanks to you, she will wake up to a new world that will welcome her instead of threaten her."

Lightning's lips curled into a brief smile. "You mean, thanks to us."

"Yeah." Hope brushed a few of stray hairs behind her ear. Fingers careful, ghosting his touch around the curl of her ear.

Lightning blinked in surprise, but rid herself of the expression. She broke their contact, standing and stretching her arms up, tension loosening its hold on her limbs. "All of this moping and arguing has been fun and all, but I think that it's about time for sleep. How about you?"

Hope moved like a lethargic turtle, heaving himself up as he rubbed a hand over his face with an unrestrained yawn. "Not me. I've got a full schedule. Too much work, not enough time. Sleep can wait." He stepped toward the door, but jerked to a stop as Lightning swung her arm out, a bar against his chest.

"Sorry, Director Estheim, but your duties can wait. You look like your eyes are going to roll out of their sockets."

"Thanks for the compliment, Light. I appreciate it. But seriously, I have to-"

"If you're going to insist on being stubborn, then I guess you're sleeping here." Lightning pushed him back down to the couch. "Where I can keep my eye on you."

"But, Light..." Hope whined.

Lightning nabbed a spare blanket from the closet and threw it at his face. "Nope." Hope pushed the blanket back, leaving it like a hood around his sulking face. Lightning put her hands on her hips. "Don't be petulant. It's bedtime, young man."

"Did this work on Serah?"

"Serah actually minded me. Well... most of the time." Lightning's expression softened as she remembered all of the times that her baby sister had whined, pleaded, and begged her to let her stay awake. Most efforts were futile, but on certain occasions Serah would give her that sweet, innocent, pleading expression, that Hope had down to a tee, and she would have no other choice than to give in.

Hope toed his shoes off, surrendering as he kicked back on the couch. "Fine, I concede. But you have to sleep, too."

"This leader of the new world stuff is going to your head if you think you can boss me around."

"Technically I am your superior."

"In your head," Lightning retorted, switching off the light. "Goodnight, Hope."

"Night," Hope mumbled, sleep already a veil over his eyes.

It was comforting, his presence. Lightning wasn't sure how, but Hope had carved himself a special place in her heart. He'd known her for a blink of a moment, yet the depth of their bond was undeniable. Lightning knew she wouldn't be as close with any other person as she was with her sister, but Hope was a close second.

Lightning slipped into her bedroom without a sound. She looked into the mirror that hung over her desk, seeing her disheveled self. Her clothes were splotched with blood and caked with dried mud, her skin grimy like it had a film of grease, but Hope's kindness left her face clean. She slid the bandana out of her pouch, fingertips tracing the scraggled pattern. She folded it carefully and left it on the edge of the desk, making a mental note to get it washed and returned.

Taking one last look at herself, she decided that a shower was a necessity. She was exhausted, but remnants of the day crawled under her skin, Yeul's blood itching at her arms. "Sorry, Hope. Shower first, then sleep."

* * *

"Castea!"

Castea turned at the sound of her name, features twisted in disapproval. "Watch it, Sebastian," she snapped.

Sebastian ascended the stone steps of their base, exiting the mouth of the Eighth Ark. His large stature suited the ark's build, as if it was made to house him. He towered above her with a musculature fit for his place as her right hand. His hair was a rich auburn, chopped short by another of her people. The moon's light shadowed his freckled face, accenting the cut of his jaw. His sheer size and harsh expression inspired swift intimidation in most, despite the mellow green of his irises. His robe indicated his position, jet black in color, the lesser to Castea's pure white one.

Together, they looked quite the contradiction.

Castea was deathly pale, bones thin, her complexion glowing hauntingly like the moon. Her ghostly appearance unsettled her enemies and even a number of her underlings, something she prided herself on. Her facial features were soft and round, though her eyes were sharp, grey and piercing like a wolf's when stalking its prey. Platinum blonde locks were cut short and slicked back, the tips peeking just below her ears. Her white cloak covered as much of her skin as it did her intensions, projecting an innocence she did not own.

Sebastian lowered his head in a respectful, repentant bow as he approached. "My apologies, Lady Hidon." He raised his head just enough to meet her eyes. His next words were hesitant, apprehension ruminating on his face. "The guardian, she's still struggling against us. We gave her the news, but she won't accept it. She's still-"

"I'm sure you can handle her." Castea brought her hands to his cheeks and tilted his head up, fixing him with a wicked grin. "How long has it been, my friend? Five years? Five long years and the _centuries_ before that. We're so close, Sebastian. Very close."

Her voice was filled with villainous pleasure. She watched as it rippled through Sebastian, leaving him trembling in her hands.

"Soon we will have fulfilled our goal. We will finally be free." She turned back, facing the darkness of Pulse. Castea loved that time of night, where the moon breathed its quiet power over the land, taking hostage everything beneath it. "They've gotten the message and shall soon understand it. Go on," she barked toward Sebastian. "Put that failed protector in her place. But don't be too harsh, love. We need her resigned, not dead."

"Yes, your majesty."

There was a quaking groan as the wild spoke in the night, the creatures of Pulse stirring within the shadows. Castea drank it in, the hunger of feral creatures as they approached, the fear as they retreated, wisely yielding to her domineering presence and the power housed within it.

"Yes, we shall be free. Once the boy is in our hands, it will only be a matter of time."


	6. Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A promise is renewed.

Lightning woke to the warmth of the sun on her face, shuttered bars of sunlight streaking in through the blinds. The night had been kind, restful, and her limbs felt light as if the stiffness of her years in stasis had finally lifted. It was well into the morning by the time she sat up, wincing as the skin of her leg stretched around her wound. She pulled her leg up gently, hissing as the sheets grazed over it. The stitches had been sewn with a steady hand, but the skin swelled around them, purpling.

The first thing Lightning did was take her antibiotics with a strong cup of coffee. She sipped at the brew, breathing in the warm fragrance as she stared at the empty couch. Hope's blanket was folded atop his pillow, the only evidence that he had been there at all. She shuffled over in slippered feet, the rim of her coffee cup still glued to her lips, and grazed the edges of his blanket with the backs of her knuckles. She hadn't expected him to stay so late into the morning, but she had half a mind to scold him for leaving without a goodbye.

It was then that she noticed a new lamp on the side table. The pile of porcelain pieces was gone, cleaned and tidied and Lightning couldn't help but smile. For a kid he sure was a meddlesome pain in the ass, but he was always there to help her clean up her messes.

Lightning spent the rest of her morning drinking three cups of coffee and watching the news. At around noon, she got dressed and readied herself for the day. Lightning was grateful for the clothes that the Academy had provided for her, but they were loose on her frame, a hindrance to movement and hardly comfortable. The sweater she had chosen sagged off of her shoulders. _Since I have some_ wonderful _time off, I guess I should buy some clothes. Except…_ _I have no gil to my name._

She was still unused to the layout of the building, so Lightning made her way to the lobby. She glanced here and there, marking everything into her memory. She was about to call Alyssa and ask about her situation when she was roughly bumped into.

"Oh! Hey, I'm terribly sorry, but-"

Lightning looked up to find a familiar face. Lebreau's scrunched expression of apology quickly morphed into one of excitement.

"I know you. Long time, Lightning."

Lebreau brought her in for a hug, squeezing her shoulders tight, and Lightning patted her arms awkwardly until Lebreau let go. Lightning had nothing against the girl, but she had spent little time in her company. Lightning wasn't one to frequent her café in Bodhum. She tended to label Lebreau as just another one of Snow's reckless crew in NORA.

"Yeah. Hey," Lightning said. Lebreau looked different than before, and Lightning assumed that age had changed her, or maybe she had grown up without the giant child of a leader around. Her hair was shorter, up in a curly bob, and her clothes were much more conservative, concealing more than her previous getup revealed.

"I heard you woke up. I was just about to see if the guys wanted to come to lunch. Wanna join?"

"I don't-" Lightning began, walking back toward the elevator.

Lebreau sped past her, tugging on the sleeve of her sweater. "Oh, come on. You can help me get the boys out of that shop. I swear, Maqui's getting to be about as bad as Hope these days." With a ding, the elevator opened, and Lebreau kept yanking until Lightning reluctantly complied _._ Lightning reevaluated her earlier thoughts. _Nope. You are still all oversized children._

Hope and Maqui's work area was in the basement of the building. It was an expansive workspace that took up the entirety of the floor. Workbenches were overloaded with blueprints and half-finished projects. Various types of machinery and equipment created a cacophony of shrill noises. Sparks sprayed from the ceiling as one worker toyed with electrical wiring of some sort. Tools, pipes, cords, and pieces of metal laid everywhere. Lebreau's eyes went wide as she scanned over all of the misplaced junk. "Man, I told them to pick this place up," she huffed, kicking away a pipe. It rolled over to clang against a pile of rebar.

The space was empty of people except for a few that were diligently working in their own spaces. Hope and his platinum locks were easy enough to spot, even as his hair was pulled away from his face with a bandana wrapped around his forehead. Lightning followed Lebreau, deftly maneuvering around the clutter like mines on a battlefield. Hope was stripped of his jacket and shirt, his white tank top patched with grey, sticking to his body with sweat. Lightning couldn't discern what it was that he was bent over. There was a long pipe cut in half on his desk, his fingers twisting and tweaking the wires inside.

"Heya, Hope," Lebreau called, though it failed to stir his attention. His eyes were laser-focused, and Lightning could remember seeing that same look when he would toy with the controls of the mechanisms he found on their journey. "I said," Lebreau muttered as she bent closer to his ear and yelled, "Heya, Hope!"

Hope jumped. A spark ignited in Hope's hand making him jump again with a hiss. He shook off the sting, glaring at Lebreau. "Damn, Lebreau. Was that really necessary?"

Lebreau giggled. "Yes, it was. If you didn't zone so much, I wouldn't have to break your eardrums. Where's Maqui?"

"I'm over here," grumbled Maqui as he rounded the corner. "Dear Maker, woman. I could hear you from across the shop." Maqui hopped up on the small space left on Hope's workstation, his eyes giving Hope's project a once over, then he glanced at Lightning. "Hey."

"Good," Lebreau nodded. "I came to get you two fools for lunch. I knew if someone didn't, you'd starve yourselves working all day." She crossed her arms, heaving her prediction onto their shoulders like an accusation.

Hope raised a brow. "And you decided to get Light in on this charade?"

"She wouldn't come to lunch so I figured the least she could do was help me fetch you goofballs."

"The least I could do...?" Lightning repeated, crossing her own arms with an amused smirk.

Lebreau shrugged. "Yes. Now are you two coming or not?" She put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot, the very stance of an impatient, overbearing mother.

"Yeah, sure." Maqui sighed out his resignation and walked his way to the door as he tossed his wrench to the side. Lightning understood how the place became such a pit as Maqui's work gloves followed suit.

"One down." Lebreau beamed. "And you?"

Hope paused in his scribbling over the schematics beside his project, scratching his head with the pencil. The suggestion seemed to tempt him, and his stomach if the burbling sound was any indication, but Hope shook his head. "I can't. I have to finish this wiring and then I have papers to approve."

Lebreau yanked on his ear, pulling him up and away from the stretch of his work. "Hey, you're coming."

Hope pulled himself free. "I _can't_. Maybe some other time."

Lebreau huffed, big and loud through her nose like a horse, but otherwise relented. "Fine, but you're coming to dinner. We're all meeting at my cafe at six. No ifs, ands or buts." She turned, covertly motioning for Lightning to follow her.

Maqui waited by the door, leaning against the wall as he thrust his hands into his pockets. "Are we going or not?"

"One second, Maq," Lebreau hollered, pulling Lightning behind a corner. "Can you make sure he comes to dinner," Lebreau asked, jabbing a thumb back in Hope's direction. "He'll listen to you."

"I wasn't invited, but-"

"Of course you're coming too, soldier." Lebreau smiled with every tooth, patting Lightning's shoulder. "You're a part of the gang too, whether you like it or not."

"I'm not one for social... anything."

"Oh, come on. All of us will be there. And Hope's sure to come if you're there to keep him company."

Lightning's mouth tightened as she quirked a brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Lebreau said, a little too quick and a note too high. "It's just that Hope works _all the time_ ," said Lebreau, her hands flapping in a gesture of exasperation. "He needs a break and we wanna hang out with him. He may be a little more encouraged to go if one of his old pals is there, is all."

Lightning blew her bangs from her eyes with a sigh. She supposed _one_ dinner wouldn't kill her. "Fine."

"Yay! Hope knows where the cafe is so just come with him. It's going to be all of us team NORA peoples... minus Snow, of course." She stopped, and there was a moment of vulnerability, a flash of sorrow that came and went with a grounding swallow. And she picked right back up with an embarrassed laugh. "And Nivien and her little bro. It's going to be great." She trotted off toward Maqui, arresting his arm as she dragged him out. "I thought I told you knuckleheads to keep this place up."

"It's not like we're the only ones that work in here, _mom_."

"Yeah, yeah," replied Lebreau before waving back at Lightning and shoving the mechanic through the door.

Leaving Lightning to deal with Hope.

She walked back around to Hope's workspace, sliding her hand across the edge of the table, fiddling with a small gadget that had enough buttons to occupy a toddler. "So... this isn't what I had in mind when I envisioned the Director's job." Lightning pointed the… _thing_ at Hope, staring at oil stains and the singed edges of his clothing.

Hope bit his lip around a guilty smile. "I like to be... more hands on with my projects than I should, but I balance it out."

"By being a zombie," Lightning mumbled almost inaudibly, earning a small laugh from Hope. "Really, you-"

He waved her off, his cheek twitching with something like irritation. "Yeah, I know. You all thoroughly disapprove of my time management skills. Believe me, I know." Hope picked up his gloves from the table and shoved them on. "I just have a lot to get done."

Lightning contemplated her next words, pretending to focus on the gadget while watching Hope from the corner of her eye. She figured he'd have a lot on his plate, but that didn't mean that he had to become such a workaholic.

_Maker, he's turning into me._

"Anything I can help with? I'm stuck off duty for a few days. I'm sure I could put myself to use."

"I'm sure you could, Light, but no. You should rest up. How's that leg doing?"

_Nice deflection, Hope._

Lightning leaned against his workbench beside him. "Its fine," she said, curt and abrupt because she was having none of it. "You know I don't 'rest'. I was in that room for less than two hours and I was already bouncing off of the walls. I need something to do."

_It's the whole reason I went back to work. I can't sit around while you're rebuilding our world. While Fang and Vanille are saving Cocoon. While Serah is-_

"I was going to buy some clothes, but I realized that I'm broke."

"Shoot," Hope set his wire cutters aside, shucking off his gloves as he retrieved his coat. "Why didn't you say something sooner, Light? Here, use my card. I'll call ahead and make sure you have clearance to use it." He turned toward her, sliding a credit card into her hand.

With a scoff, Lightning shoved it into his chest. "I'm not a charity case. I can make my own gil."

Hope rolled his eyes, and Lightning was about to stomp away when he took her hand, placed the card back in her palm and curled her fingers around it. "And when will that be? It's okay. You're my friend, not a charity case. It's not like you opted to laze around for the last six years not making gil. You couldn't. So please, I insist."

"No."

"You had no qualms about living in the apartment we provided for you, or wearing the clothing left for you."

Lightning shot daggers at him and slammed the card down on the table. "Fine, you can have it all back." She turned to walk away, but Hope grabbed her arm and jerked her to a stop. The force startled Lightning, and she stared back at fingers that weren't small anymore, an arm that wasn't scrawny anymore. She looked down to meet his gaze, but she wasn't met with a boyish face brimming with uncertainty. It was a chest, now built with the strength of a man.

"You know that's not what I meant. Is it because it's from me and not through the Academy?" Lightning didn't answer, still staring at Hope's hold, at him, at who he had become. Hope glanced down at his hand before letting go, pulling his bandana loose and strangling it in his grip.

Lightning wondered if she was ever going to get used to this. This Hope before her. This world turned upside down. "I don't need to be taken care of."

"I know. But forgive me for wanting to." Hope pulled back on his gloves, back to tweaking wires and skimming schematics.

Lightning watched his expression turn grim and his shoulders slump. She didn't want to mooch off of him, but he had a point. He looked back at her with his token puppy dog eyes and pleading expression in what seemed to be one last attempt at convincing her. It was effective, because she felt her heart concede.

_Man, I swear, no one has immunity to that look. But maybe this can work to my advantage._ She snatched up the card and punched him softly on the arm. "Alright, under two conditions."

Hope groaned, sitting himself on a stool, his weight wheeling him back against the workbench. "Why do I not like the sound of that?"

"Condition one - I get to work with you until I get back on duty."

Hope shook his head, but smiled with a mouthed 'of course.' "Fine, but that seems a bit too fair on my end."

"Condition two - you come to dinner. I'm not going alone with NORA, your little temperamental friend, and her brother, whom I've never even met." Chuckles bubbled up out of Hope, though he tried and failed to stifle them by biting into his glove. "What?"

Hope choked his laughter down and drew in a breath, facing her annoyance with a placating smile. "Actually, he was one of the first people you met. His name is Olly. He's the unfortunate soldier you came across, and subsequently knocked out, when you came out of stasis."

"Great," Lightning said, remembering how she'd threatened and attacked the soldier for only doing his job _. Hindsight is a real kick in the ass._ "Then that settles it. You're definitely coming."

"Yeah, alright. Deal. But you better buy an entire new _wardrobe's_ worthof clothing. I mean it. Don't make me pull rank on you, Farron," he mock commanded.

"You wouldn't dare," she challenged back.

"Alright. Get out of here. I need to focus and you most certainly aren't helping."

"My apologies, _Director_." Lightning poked him in the forehead, drawing an exasperated chuckle from Hope, before turning to leave.

* * *

For the remainder of the day before dinner, Hope worked. He finished wiring one of the poles for the shield project, which, to his dismay, made up for its lack of difficulty with its consumption of time. After welding the pole back together, he finished with just enough time to go over a few of the proposals in the stack that towered over his desk. At four thirty, he stopped the mind-numbing process - paperwork was never his thing - and decided to ready himself for the dinner he had agreed to. His driver drove him to his house. It was a sight for sore eyes since he had been sleeping in his office for the better part of three weeks.

Hope bid his driver a short farewel, before turning to face the empty chasm that was his home. He stared up at it, his own haunted mansion, for he could always feel the presence of the person that used to live in it, and the one that was never given a chance.

Hope's go to excuse for never returning home was that he had work. And he did. Ever since his father died and Hope had been crowned with his position, Hope became unbearably overwhelmed. He had always been a hard worker, focused his energy on what was in front of him, what he could do and fix and create. He had flown through school, having hardly felt challenged. But his work as a director was never ending. There was always more – more tasks and more paperwork, more events and more functions and more fundraisers, more meetings and more proposals, more briefings and more reports, more politics and more grievances than Hope could handle. It was ironic, how much of a workaholic he'd turned into after having despised the trait in his father. He showered in the workshop, had extra uniforms in his office and slept there on the couch. It was far from healthy, but being healthy wasn't a requirement of his job.

Hope had large shoes to fill, a job and a half to do, but it wasn't the real reason why he never went home. His home had been built for a family. He and his father built it together, for them both to live in. Now it was just Hope.

It was always just Hope.

By the time Hope had showered and dressed it was nearing five. He called Lightning who told him she'd be by his house at five thirty to meet up since Lebreau's cafe was only fifteen minutes from there. Hope wasn't sure what to do as he waited. He felt so small in his house. With rooms that held no owners, beds and books and appliances that went unused. Cold dwelled with a permanence, since there was no reason to heat an empty house.

Hope wandered into his study - his _father's_ study - and sat in the chair at his desk. Hope could feel the time as it passed, knowing that every minute he sat there was another minute wasted, but exhaustion wore him in. Hope yawned, wide and loud, and found himself reclining back, blinking and blinking, eyelids closing for longer and longer periods of time until sleep claimed him.

* * *

_"It's your own son's birthday. You can't be absent for this!"_

_Hope sat atop the hall stairs, eavesdropping on his mother's call with his father. His mother was angry, almost yelling and for a woman whose tone was always so light, so soft, it meant that she was angrier about their fracturing family than she let show. Dinner was long past. The cake sat on the table, candles unlit and presents unopened as they waited for his father to come home._

_It was ten at night and he hadn't arrived._

_"I know, but this isn't fair to him. I- How could you not have known? I thought you said that you cleared your schedule?"_

_Hope sighed. Although his mother had reassured him multiple times over the past week that his father would be present for his birthday, Hope had known, just_ known _, that it would turn out like this. After all, his father always worked. Overtime on weekdays, on weekends, on holidays, even when he was home his father would be in his study or on his phone in a conference call. So Hope had been realistic about his expectations, kept his hopes bottled up on the tippy top shelf of his emotions. But then his father promised him that he'd be home in time for dinner and that he had a special surprise for his fourteenth birthday. That bottle rocked itself off of the shelf, just to shatter to pieces on the ground._

_"Fine, but we're finishing this when you get home." There was the beep of the phone, his mother's drawn sigh, her fingers tapping on the table, a habit of hers indicative of deep thought. Then her footsteps approaching. Hope jumped up, padding quickly to his bedroom before he threw himself into bed, ducking beneath the covers. Hope listened to her steps, the knock on his door. He kept his eyes closed, hushing his erratic breathing._

_"I know you're awake."_

_Hope held onto his facade, hoping she would leave, leave and not do what she always did. She would only want to talk about his father and make excuses for him._

_Hope burst into laughter as his mother began tickling his sides, her hands swooping up under the blankets to find his most vulnerable spots. "Okay, okay, I'm up," Hope caved, sitting up and bunching the covers into a roll under his feet. His mother smiled, sitting beside him as she brushed the bangs from his eyes._

_"How much did you hear?" Nora asked and Hope could feel his emotions of disappointment and anger eclipsing over his expression._

_"All of it." Her smile faltered. Hope cast his eyes down on the bed, toes fiddling with the creases in his sheets._

_Her hand settled at his back, rubbing in that soothing manner only mothers could accomplish. Calm, circular motions that dried Hope's tears when he was upset or made him feel better even as he was vomiting into a trash can. "I'm sorry. You know your father wanted to be here. He has a lot of work."_

_"Bullshit," Hope growled before curling up and burying his face in his knees._

_"Hope Monroe Estheim. That language is not tolerated in this household. Your father just got caught up with-"_

_"With work," Hope said, his head shooting up to stare his mother in the eye. "Exactly, that's the problem. It's always work. He puts his job before everything. Dad doesn't care about us. He's always gone and never has time. Don't you care? I mean he even missed your anniversary. I saw you crying. But you just-just accepted it. You forgave him the moment he came home and-"_

_Nora pulled Hope into a hug, and the fumes that had been steadily building in his gut vanished. Hope breathed in his mother's scent of lilac, nose buried in the fibers of her sweater. They sat there like that until Hope mumbled an apology into her arm._

_"I know." She pulled back to ruffle his hair with a smile so genuine that it crinkled the corners of her eyes. She stood up with a pat to her thighs. "Do you want to have your cake?"_

_"No, I'm not really hungry. Can I open my presents, though?"_

_"Maybe just one. Give me a minute." She walked out of Hope's bedroom and returned a few moments later with a thin, wrapped gift. She flipped the lights on in his room before sitting back on the bed._

_Hope snatched the present out of her hand before she could settle in. It was square, light, and flimsy like cloth. Hope glared. "I get one present today and you give me clothing?"_

_Nora chuckled, knocking her head against his. "You haven't even opened it yet."_

_Hope gave the thing one more skeptical look before tearing into its packaging. He had been right. It was clothing. Rather anticlimactic, but Hope found himself admiring his present. It was a small, green cloth with fringed edges that flowed between his fingers. He unfolded it, revealing it to be a bandana with a black, zig zagging, yet swirl-like pattern._

_"It's a tribal scarf. I saw it at a market a few months ago. The pattern actually says something in Pulsian."_

_Hope's eyebrows rose. His fingers followed the black lines, attempting to decipher it. Pulse was ingrained into everyone's brains as hell, yet his mother spoke of it differently. She was constantly saying that people are afraid of the things that they don't understand. "What does it mean?"_

_She put a hand on his shoulder. "The future lies with hope."_

_He snorted. Of course it was some inspirational quote with his namesake. Ever since he could remember, his mother repeatedly used his name against him when he was angry or upset. That along with the fact that Hope had been teased about his name led to his resentment toward the word. But he smiled nonetheless. "Thanks, mom. It's in my favorite color."_

_Nora enveloped him in a hug with just as much enthusiasm and love as the bear hugs she used to give him when he was small. "It's like it was made for you," she said excitedly. "You know how hard that blueish-green is to find in anything. Surprisingly, it was one of only three different colors."_

_His mother's enthusiasm reinforced Hope's will to keep his misgivings to himself. She leaned in, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Hope rubbed at the spot. "Really, mom?"_

_"You're never too old for a kiss goodnight," she whispered as she flipped the light switch and pulled the door shut behind her._

_"Yes, I am."_

* * *

Hope jerked awake to a series of pounds at his front door. The shock of it had him wrenching himself forward, tipping himself from his precarious balance reclining in his desk chair. He fell to the side with a "oh, crap!" groaning and rubbing his shoulder as he stood. In his ascent, Hope took notice of an envelope taped to the belly of the desk. He ripped it off, eying it curiously, before rushing to the pounds that only increased in frequency and determination.

Hope reached for the doorknob just as the door swung open towards him. The coming collision to his face was foreseeable, but unpreventable. "Ow!" Hope yelped as his nose crunched against the wood. Cupping his hands around his nose, Hope caught the blood as it began to flow, blearily seeing a shocked Lightning in his peripheries.

"Etro, Hope. Why were you just standing there?"

"So you could hit me with the door." Lightning's shock hardened at his sarcasm, though even with his nose leaking like a sieve, he didn't miss the humored quirk to her lips. Her eyes darted around the entryway before she took off around the corner, returning to his side before he had a chance to ask what she was doing.

"Here, let's sit you down." She gently applied pressure to the back of his skull so he would lean his head forward while guiding him into the armchair of his sitting room. "Where's your bathroom?"

Hope said the directions as clearly as he could from behind his hand, waiting until she returned with a towel. "Not the time to worry about blood stains, right?"

Lightning stopped, glancing down at the turquoise towel in hand, before shoving it into Hope's hands. "I'll buy you a new one if it's so precious. Let me see your nose."

Hope pulled back from Lightning, shaking his head until the room began to spin, colors swirling and distorting. _Okay, not a good idea._

"Don't be such a baby." She pried Hope's hand off of his nose, her fingers then probing tenderly along its bridge. "I don't think it's broken."

"Are you sure? It sure feels broken." Hope brought the towel back up, shielding his nose. "Or shattered. Don't roll your eyes at me. You smashed my nose!"

"Everything looks and feels intact. It's not bruising yet. There's probably just a few broken blood vessels. Around your eye is beginning to swell, though." Lightning averted her gaze to the ground. It did little to conceal the guilt twinging in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Hope."

"I think the bleeding stopped, so I'm gonna get changed. It's about time we get going, right?" He sidestepped around her crouching form and left to his bedroom. Hope sped to change his attire, clean off his face, and take a dose of pain killers to quell the ache of his nose before he returned to find Lightning in the exact same position he left her in. She was staring at the little dribbles of blood that now spotted his carpet. "It's alright, Light. I know you didn't mean to and I am a pretty big baby. Really, it barely hurts."

She stood up with a breath and turned toward him. He was surprised to see anger flaring in her expression. "Why didn't you answer the door? I was out there for five minutes until I decided to check if it was locked."

Hope shoved his hands in his pockets, mentally scolding himself for making Lightning wait. He knew that nap had been a terrible idea. "I was asleep," Hope said with a sheepish half shrug. "I'm sorry."

That seemed to hose down the rising flames, until Lightning glanced around the room. Hope trekked her gaze to see what he was missing. "Where are your guards?"

_Oops_ , Hope thought. He was about to defend himself, but Lightning's anger roared back to life. "And why isn't your door locked? You're supposed to be protected." Lightning frowned, standing with a hand on her cocked hip and Hope knew what that meant. She was disappointed and winding her gears up for a lecture.

_It's like I'm fourteen again._

Hope raked a nervous hand through his hair, wondering why he still felt so small in Lightning's eyes despite now being a head above her. "I sent them home," Hope said before rushing forward with an explanation, "I know, but I don't need to be protected... except maybe from you. I'm _fine_ , Light. It's a waste of time and resources and manpower. Those soldiers could be doing much more productive things than guarding me." He attempted a conciliatory smile, but the intense anger that emanated from the soldier stopped it from forming into anything but a cringe. "And I always forget to lock the door. It's no big deal."

Hope gulped as Lightning clenched her fists. She wouldn't really hit him, would she? Hope thought of all of the black eyes she gave Snow and mentally prepared himself for the blow.

"Hope," Lightning fumed, "You can't possibly be serious. You forget to lock it? That's your excuse?" She took a step forward and Hope retreated three steps back. "You sent your guards home? What the hell, Hope? I can't believe that you would be so stupid." Lightning backed off with a huff. Hope let out a relieved breath that was sucked back in as Lighting rounded on him. "It's not a waste of time, Hope. This city needs a leader and what if something happens to you? It couldn't... I couldn't... Did you learn nothing from the assassination attempt?"

Hope swallowed. And swallowed. And swallowed. The bile kept coming, an onslaught from the reminder of that day. It was one of his biggest scars, and Hope was unprepared to have it wrenched back open. Certainly not by Lightning.

Lightning snapped her mouth shut, mouth opening and closing as she floundered. "Hope. Hope, I'm sorry. That was way out of line and-"

Hope held up a hand. "No. You're right. I was careless. How did you find out?" Hope asked, his voice quiet, yet surprisingly steady.

"Alyssa told me."

"Right." Hope hadn't allowed himself to think about that day for a long time. Now was not appropriate, but that didn't stop the images from haunting him, pestering him and pecking at him like a ravenous zirnitra.

The images receded as two arms embraced him around his waist. It wasn't what he was expecting, and the shock of it easily rivalled that day in Palumpolum. When he was a hair's breadth away from murder. It was the first time Hope had felt warmth since the death of his mother. The first time he smiled with pride and real happiness since he began running for his life.

That day appeared to be on Lightning's mind, too. "I didn't mean that. I didn't mean for you to go after Snow that day. And I don't mean that you should become vengeful or terrified after… But you have to be careful."

Hope nodded, holding on for just a second longer, letting the moment stretch into his being, singe into his veins, before he let go. Hope had felt terribly far from her for so long, staring up into her crystalline structure, imaging her restful stasis dreams. "We should get going," Hope suggested, hoping his face wasn't as red as it was warm. "We're already going to be late." He pivoted on his heel, but stopped at the tug on the back of his sleeve.

"Are you sure? If your... um- nose is still hurting then I'm sure they'd understand."

Hope flashed a rueful smile, recognizing the out. "Yeah, it's okay. Besides, I made a promise."

* * *

Relocation changed nothing of Lebreau's place. The NORA café still held a bohemian, islander ambiance even in the middle of a city in construction. The hustle and bustle of customers had only grown. When looking at it from the outside, Lightning could imagine breathing in the Bodhum air, sitting on a stool beachside like they never left.

"Lebreau wanted it to seem as much like her old one as possible," Hope said as he exited the car. "She felt that the familiarity would serve as a mental relaxant in the midst of all of this change. People from your neck of the woods could feel at home. Personally, I think she did it for Snow."

"I'll bet. The big lug will be touched."

"You look really nice, by the way."

"What?" Lightning asked, snapping out of her head.

Hope chuckled and repeated, "You look nice."

Lightning looked herself over, finding nothing fancy about her casual wear. A white blouse, black blazer, and jeans that she had just purchased. So she could dress herself. That hardly seemed commendable. "Thanks. Good to know that you like what you paid for."

"Just a loan, right?" Hope laughed, glancing out. His eyes caught on Cocoon, drawing Lightning's gaze to their own floating crystal ball that reflected nothing on the future, only the past. "You know, I think I'm going to visit them soon."

The thought managed to pinch into her chest. Pain. That was all seeing Vanille and Fang would do. Cause her pain. Just like seeing Serah. Like visiting their mother when she was too far gone in the hospital.

"You should, too. I mean, if you want. We built a facility beneath to monitor the stability of Cocoon's crystal stalk and keep it from being attacked, but we wanted to keep it at a safe distance from Academia. You know, in the event that it... falls."

Lightning watched as Hope's nostalgic gaze festered with despair, left him staring at his shoes, expression clouded and heavy with years of agony. Years she had missed. "Yeah, I should see them soon," Lightning said, stepping into Hope's space and nudging his chin up with a finger. "We should get inside. We're fifteen minutes late."

"Hey, guys! Over here," Maqui called, waving a hand wildly. Catching sight, Lightning led them over to the table full of familiar faces. She took a seat, Hope next to her.

"What took you so long?" Lebreau asked, glaring at Hope. "I- Jeez. Who clocked you?"

Hope dodged the question, hiding behind a menu to avoid the stares. "C'mon, Lebreau. You know me, I'm always fashionably late."

"Yeah. Oh so fashionable," Yuj laughed until Gadot elbowed him in the ribs. "Rude, dude. He knows I'm only kidding."

Maqui grinned, mischief gleaming in his eyes. "You're burying yourself pretty far in that menu, Hope. Don't pretend you haven't been here often enough to know the fare. Show us that shiner. How'd you get it?"

"I… would like to endeavor upon a new cuisine, that's all."

"Please. How'd you get it?" Hope rubbed the back of his head as Lightning averted her gaze. Maqui's eyes bounced between the two of them. "A girl? You got punched by a girl?"

"Hey!" Lebreau picked the lemon from the rim of her drink and threw it, aiming for Maqui's head. He ducked before the lemon met its mark. "What's that supposed to mean, you sexist? Zip your trap."

Gadot arrested Maqui into a headlock, rubbing his knuckles into Maqui's scalp. "I'd keep your mouth shut, Maq. I wouldn't want to cross any of these women." Maqui flailed, trying and failing to get free until Gadot released him. "So, Lightning, what did the dunce do to deserve that?" Gadot asked with a wink.

As much fun as everyone was having with the situation, Lightning didn't find it funny. They were lucky she didn't break Hope's nose or land him with a concussion. "It wasn't intentional-"

"Come on, guys," Lebreau said, running right over Lightning's words. "It couldn't have been that bad. Hope can be an idiot sometimes, but I don't think he could-"

Hope reached across the table, thwacking Lebreau in the head with his menu. "Wow, thanks for the backhanded compliment."

"You didn't let me finish." Lebreau reached across Lightning to shove him back, almost knocking Hope off of his chair.

Lightning scooted herself back from the two's squabble. As annoyed as she was to be stuck in the middle of their school kid fun, she was happy to see Hope enjoying himself. He looked better out of worker bee mode, and Lightning wondered if this was what Serah had always wanted for Lightning. To shed her own worker bee uniform.

Friends weren't something Lightning took much stock in. There were two types of friends in her book. Ones that only wanted something out of the relationship, and ones that served as unnecessary distractions. Lightning didn't need either.

The events following the Purge caused Lightning to amend her stance. When the world was dogging their footsteps, pointing guns at their backs, it was her friends that stood by her. They protected her. They cared about her.

_Maybe… friends aren't such a bad thing to have…_

Yuj, Gadot and Maqui were playfully knocking each other around as they teased Hope. Lebreau and Hope were laughing into their drinks. Nivien was watching the exchange while chuckling into a hand herself. But the young man next to Nivien, who Lightning supposed was Olly, seemed out of place. He was keenly trying to avoid eye contact with Lightning, his gaze warily finding her before fleeing into his menu. Although, one jab to the ribs and a gibe from Maqui had him joining in with a fit of giggles. His jittery, nervous form dissolved into the scene, and that clean cut kid was just another chum.

"Really, guys," Hope said. "It's no big deal. It was an accident. Even if it was really good timing." Hope gave Lightning a playful glance.

"You just better learn to not keep me waiting or my timing will have to be more precise next time." Lightning punched him in the arm as everyone erupted with laughter.

"I'd watch it, Hope," Yuj warned. "If that's what an accident looks like, I wouldn't want to see you if it was on purpose."

"I would," Maqui said before eagerly cheering Lightning on. "Go on, Lightning. Put him in his place." Lebreau threw another lemon slice toward Maqui, which he dodged just in time for it to smack into their waitress's face.

Lebreau paled as the table sobered of laughter. "I'm sorry, Meg! I didn't mean that for you. Honest."

Then Maqui and Olly burst into laughter.

"Eh-hem." Nivien smacked Olly upside the head and it was like she hit the silence button. They both quieted instantly. "Terribly sorry for these two, as well," Nivien apologized.

Lightning found herself surprised by the change in Nivien. Her soldier self seemed much more strict, angry, but strong and confident. This Nivien was far more relaxed, nonchalant, literally letting her hair down. Her confidence was pronounced now, just in a much more feminine way. Her harsh, business front was gone. There was a woman beneath the soldier and Lightning felt a flash of self-consciousness rise inside of her.

Was that what she was supposed to do? Toss away her soldier coat and let loose? Was she supposed to giggle and play around at the table? Lightning looked at Nivien, her low-cut top and shiny, silver bangles that chimed with every movement, then Lebreau in a tight, red camisole, nails painted and hair in a bun.

Lightning was reminded of other reasons why she didn't hang out with friends. It was just another knife into her security.

_"You look nice."_

Lightning looked back over at Hope. Maybe she was overthinking things.

The waitress laughed as she wiped the juice from her cheek. "It's quite alright, Ms. Kinesh. Here are some more drinks. Jus' lemme know when you're ready to order your meals."

"Really, _Ms. Kinesh_ ," Yuj said, affecting a poor imitation of the waitress' accent. "I dun think it's kind to throw food at your employees."

Lebreau waved a fist in his direction. "Watch it, Yuj, or it won't be a lemon hitting you."

"So, it's Lightning, right?" Nivien asked, folding her arms and resting them forward on the table.

"Yeah."

"I hear you put my brother in his place." Olly's jaw dropped and she chuckled at his aghast expression. "I have to thank you for that. If I had to hear him one more time spouting off about how 'women can't possibly expect to take down men' again, I was going to scream. It seems all he needed was a demonstration."

Olly smacked a hand to his forehead, shading his eyes with well placed fingers. "That's no woman. She's a deadly weapon."

"And your sister isn't?" Gadot slammed his hand down on the table, cracking up. "I've seen her in action. You'd think he'd learn first-hand, being your brother and all."

"I guess I just wasn't hard enough on him. That'll have to change."

"It just might," Lightning said, deciding to join in on the teasing. "He was cockier than he should have been. What's your rank, kid?"

Maqui grinned, smacking Olly on the back with, "A lowly private."

"Don't go judging me by my rank," Olly countered, then turned to Lightning with a bowed head. "I am sorry, though. I was trying to do my job."

"I can respect that, but I'd think twice about going against Lightning again," Lebreau advised with a wink.

"Who'd even think about it?" Yuj asked. "It's a no brainer."

Hope flashed Olly a crooked grin, pointing to his bruised face. "No one messes with Light."

Olly slumped in his chair, and Lightning felt compelled to soften the teasing with, "Don't sweat it, kid. You did fine under the circumstances." Olly beamed and sat up as Meg came to take their orders.

As veteran attendees, the table was ready with their choice. Except for Lightning, of course. She was tempted to go simple so the group wouldn't have to wait on her, but she took one of Hope's recommendations that he was all too eager to give.

"Alright, hope ya'll 're havin' a good time. You sure do seem like ya are." Meg said to the gang, giving a subtle wave to Yuj, before collecting the menus and darting off to another table.

Lebreau crested her head on her hand as she turned to Hope. "I meant to ask earlier. When is Sazh due back from his super-secret mission?"

"Not until tomorrow."

_Right. The mission to check Etro's shrine._ Lightning had successfully sidetracked herself from thinking about the crystals and Serah, but now all of her hope started leaking through. If they found something, even a tiny fragment, then Lightning would have a method to wake Serah. If they didn't… _Hope said that they may abort the plan altogether…_

"I can't wait to see what they find." Maqui's attention surged from some gadget he was fiddling with on the table. "I mean Snow could come out of st-"

"Maqui," Hope reproached him with a look and Maqui sucked his lips back between his teeth.

It was too late to hide anything. The entire group had heard. And they were staring at Hope. Lightning knew the mission had been classified. Why she'd been able to know... she wasn't sure if it was because of her sister, her closeness with Hope, or a mixture of the two. But if Sazh, the _pilot_ of the mission, hadn't known until the day he reported in, then she didn't think Maqui would have been told.

Lebreau quirked a brow, expression unsteady. "What about Snow's stasis?"

Hope stared down at his hands for a long moment. "Maqui, were you hacking into the Academy's files again?"

"I did help build the firewall. Don't tell me you didn't expect it?" Hope's anger stole the proud grin from Maqui's face.

Lebreau leaned forward to grip Hope's wrist, shaking his attention back to her. "What is he talking about, Hope?"

Hope ducked his head as he cursed into his lap."He's talking about classified material shared between my office and that of the Cavalry and the Corps that he had no business looking into."

"It has to do with all of us in NORA," Maqui growled. "This is Snow we're talking about."

"Yeah and Sazh's son. Sazh is the pilot of the mission and will be in the field, on the ground with the search team. He and _every other person_ on that search team don't know why they're out there. It's classified."

"That's insane!" Maqui stood, slamming his fists on the table hard enough that it knocked over his glass. "You're telling me that he's looking for something that could save his son, and doesn't know it?"

"What is going on?" Olly asked before Nivien shushed him.

"That's exactly what I'm telling you." Hope folded his arms over his chest, as if done with his explanation. Lightning wondered if Hope had taken a few leadership tips from Amodar, because it was the exact same thing he did after his briefings.

Gadot pulled Maqui down by the collar of his vest, forcing the mechanic to his chair. "Use some table manners, Maq. You spilled your beer all over Yuj."

"Not cool, man," Yuj said, scrubbing at his shirt.

But Maqui continued arguing with Hope regardless. "We should still get to know. Hell, even Light-" Something seemed to click in Maqui's head as he looked at Lightning, and he gritted his teeth upon the realization. "Oh, hell no. You told her?! You told Lightning and you can't tell us?! Holy Etro, Hope."

Lightning felt Hope tense at her side. He looked grossly overwhelmed and it allowed Lightning to see his age. He was still unaccustomed to these kinds of interrogations, too green to properly withhold information from loved ones.

"Fine. Sazh's mission is to find a piece of a crystal. If they find it and two other pieces, then we might, and I emphasize _might_ , be able to get Dajh, Serah and Snow out of stasis." Hope rubbed his temples, his next words catching on his teeth. "Along with Cocoon."

Lightning surveyed their surroundings, checking every expression near their table. If that information spread through Academia, there would be major backlash.

Their group was quiet, unmoving. The news settled on their table like a blanket, enshrouding them in silence and the safety of hope. Lightning knew how the NORA gang must have been feeling. Snow was like a brother to them, their giant blowhard of a protector.

"If this gets out to the rest of the city," Hope muttered to his lap, "there will be a rash of repercussions. I don't want to even think about what would happen if this news travelled to the Sanctum."

Lightning stared at Hope, spotting the tremble in his hands. She may have underestimated how much this mission affected Hope. How much his position in general affected him. He was still a kid in the eyes of politics. Hope was too young, too idealistic, to have lives burdening his hands. For him to have to keep secrets… Lightning had trouble keeping some of her duties as a soldier from Serah. She couldn't imagine how much a world leader would have to keep from the ones he loved.

He had to do it. It was his job.

But as an outsider, Maqui had a point. This mission concerned all of them.

Before anyone could speak, Meg came with their food. There were no happy salutations, no flirty waves. She seemed to sense the unease, and bowed out gracefully.

They ate quietly, almost mechanically, until Yuj broke through. "Why didn't you tell us? Was it really just because it was classified?"

Hope paused in his chewing, before putting down his flatware and reluctantly addressing the table. "No. It's also because it's a slim chance, guys. No one needs to get their hopes up on a gamble like this."

"But you told Lightning," Nivien said sharply, her fork stabbing into her salad.

"I forced it out of him," Lightning said, banking on her more brutish reputation. "Really, it's not his fault." No one questioned Lightning's statement, but none of them appeared convinced either.

* * *

They had long since concluded their dinner. Some ate dessert, others sipped at drinks, but all of them were engaged in conversation that strayed far from Cocoon. Maqui talking about the progress of the shield project, Lebreau on considering new menu items, and Nivien as she inquired about Lightning's previous work on Bodhum.

Nivien excused herself shortly after Lightning finished. "I'll be back real quick."

Hope watched her walk away. He caught sight of her sifting through her purse, seizing a pack of cigarettes before she made it to the door. "I need some air," Hope said, and followed her out.

He walked into her puff of smoke, the smell stirring a strange sense of intimacy. "I thought you quit."

Nivien flipped her lighter shut, sticking it into her pocket as Hope neared. "I did."

"What happened?"

"Life. Life happened." She blew her smoke into his face, a buzz off that Hope didn't heed. "What are you doing out here?"

Hope swallowed at the bite in her question. "What's up with you?"

"What's up with _me_? What does that mean?"

Hope leveled her with a look. "You know full well what I mean. Yesterday. That was rude and unprofessional. It wasn't like you. I thought we settled on friendly terms."

Nivien scoffed, disdain in the flick of her ashes. "We did."

"Nivien, what's going on? I don't even know what I-"

"Whatever."

"You can push me around like a child, but you can't explain why?" Hope breathed through his frustration. He didn't understand. Their last few interactions had been brief, but pleasant. Granted, they were there for business, but Hope never knew Nivien to act this way. "I don't-"

"Don't act so innocent, Hope. It's making me sick." She threw her cigarette down, extinguishing it with an angry stomp before heading back toward the entrance.

"Don't walk away." Hope pulled her back by the arm only for Nivien to round on him.

"Don't touch me."

"Stop it, Nivien. I want to talk about this. Like adults."

Nivien looked up at him and Hope could see the hurt sparking in her hazel irises. "I'm angry, okay?" They were close, near enough that their noses brushed. Her eyes widened, face reddening before she stepped back. "I can't take this anymore."

"Is this still about... what happened between us?"

Nivien's shoulders sagged as she gave him an exasperated look. "Really? Of course it is. I know you're not that dense, Hope."

Hope swallowed, wishing he had left her to her childish tantrums. But this had to be solved somehow. "I'm sorry."

"I loved you, you know that?"

Hope's head snapped up, their eyes locking for a moment that stretched taut between them, reaching into a place Hope kept buried in the past. He did know, but that knowledge failed to ignite the change that she was looking for. "I-"

"And I still do, but it doesn't matter." She shook her head, putting her restless hands in her skirt pockets. Hope recognized the defensive stance as she resisted the lure of her vice of choice. "You don't care about me."

Hope grabbed her wrist, freeing her hand so he could take it. He held it with care, trying to imprint the feelings he couldn't express in words into the warmth of his hold. "Of course I care about you. I just... I don't know."

Nivien held onto his hand, squeezing his fingers tightly before slipping out of his hold. "Not the way that I care about you."

"Nivien I... I can't see anyone. I work too much to stay in contact with my friends, let alone stay in a relationship and..." Hope faltered with how to finish. He knew that Nivien still carried feelings for him, he just hadn't known how deep they ran. Or how much she still clung to them. It had been a long time since their break up.

"You know that if you really cared... if you loved me... then you'd make time for me. And you wouldn't have hesitated in taking the next step."

* * *

"'Sup with them?" Maqui asked, staring at the entrance, bobbing his head around passersby like he could catch a glimpse of their interaction. "I thought they broke up?"

Lightning choked a little on the last of her fries.

That… was unexpected.

"Like it's any of your business," snapped Lebreau.

Maqui rose his hands in defense. "He's my best friend. I'm entitled to that kind of knowledge."

"Yes, they're broken up," Olly grumbled around a forkful of tiramisu.

"I can't believe they were ever even together in the first place." Yuj laughed. "It was like she was robbing the cradle. I didn't know Hope had a cougar kink."

"Shut it, Yuj. They aren't that far apart in age," Lebreau said before pouting. "I thought they were a cute couple."

_A couple?_ Lightning thought back to their interaction and found it to be one of the typical outcomes of a soured relationship. It was bizarre to think of Hope in a relationship. Little Hope that held onto her skirt. Little Hope that cried after his dead mother. Little Hope that despaired in their first night on Pulse.

But he was also the Hope that was the best damn healer in their party. The Hope that could tinker with machines until they sparked to life. The Hope that faced his mother's 'murderer' and chose the path of good. He was the Hope that pushed them forward with the motivational words of a true leader, even as he stood unsure of himself afterwards.

That Hope was nineteen now. Serah had four boyfriends throughout high school before landing on Snow.

Yet the thought still sat uncomfortably in Lightning's stomach. "They were... together?"

Lebreau lilted toward her with a smile. "Yeah. They started dating about a month after he turned eighteen until around... what?" She turned to her fellow NORA members, who all glanced at each other blankly. "Typical men."

"It's been eight months," Olly spoke up, a bitter tang to his words. His gaze was also magnetized to the entrance, but it was filled less with curiosity and more with concern.

"Right," Lebreau agreed. "They seemed happy, but I guess with Hope's job and his new responsibilities after... well, you know, they started seeing less of each other. Everyone started seeing less of Hope. I guess that's why they broke up." Lebreau slid the bill off of the table. "Don't worry about the check. Dinner is on me."

Maqui and Yuj hollered and clapped. Gadot shook his head at their antics. "As childish as ever," he said, pulling out his wallet. "A gentlemen never makes a lady pay for his meal."

* * *

Cocoon in all its sparkling brilliance towered over Hope. It always seemed to do that. Tower. Loom. Stare him right in the eye and remind him of his goals. Standing beside Nivien like this, outside of a restaurant with his friends, only amplified that feeling in Hope. He needed to do his job. He needed to free them.

"It's tomorrow, isn't it?"

Nivien's question tore through Hope's thoughts. Tomorrow. He had nearly forgotten. How could he have forgotten? "Yeah."

Nivien laid a hand on his shoulder, the gentlest, most careful touch and Hope relished it. He sought comfort and safety in Nivien's arms for the longest time. When he felt all alone, left behind. But he hurt her with the simplicity of those feelings. She had been right. He didn't love her. He could blame his position all he wanted, but Hope didn't feel the need to fight for her when she had forced him into an ultimatum that tore them apart. It was the proof they both needed, but didn't desire.

"I'm sorry." Nivien parted from him quietly, heading back inside.

Leaving Hope alone again. Left behind.

There was too much regret here. As Hope's gaze found Cocoon again, the maddening need to do something crackled through Hope's veins, surging him into action. He reached for his comm to call his driver, but found the device nowhere on his person. He headed inside to use the café phone to tell Dornum to take Lightning home.

"And what of you, sir?"

"I need some air. I'm going to take a stroll before I head to the Academy Base. I'll be fine. Take care of Lightning, please."

* * *

The gang was readying to leave, grabbing their coats and take home containers and Lightning's comm began to ring.

"Hello?"

"Sergeant Farron." It was Alyssa, but her usual bubbliness was absent from her voice. "Is the director with you?"

Lightning paused, eyes searching out silver locks. "Yeah. Why?" Why wasn't Alyssa calling Hope?

"Ugh, I've been trying to get a hold of him, but he wasn't answering. I tracked his comm signal to his house, so I went and looked for him. I guess he left it in his pants when he changed? Anyway, can you put him on? Urgent business."

"Yeah, one moment." Lightning made her way outside, azure eyes still scanning, but he wasn't there. "Have any of you seen Hope?" She asked the group as they huddled around the exit, saying their goodbyes.

There was a chorus of confused denials before Gadot offered to look. "I'll go check and see if he snuck back inside."

"Wait." Lebreau stepped in front of Gadot as she pointed to the street. "There's Hope's driver." Lebreau hurried over to Dornum's window, leaning in. "Have you seen Hope?"

"He said he was going to walk to the base. I was asked to pick up Ms. Farron and take her home."

"He would do something like that," Lebreau said, peeved expression tightening. "That solves it. I'll see you later, soldier."

Lightning waved a halfhearted goodbye. "Alyssa, he already headed back to the office. If you find him before I do, will you tell him that I want to speak with him?" _Or knock his lights out, more like it._

"Oh, sure."

As Lightning got out of the car at the Academy base, her comm rang again. She stopped halfway out the door as Alyssa's name flashed on her screen. "Yeah?"

"He hasn't checked in yet and I'm getting worried. Are you sure that he said he was coming here?"

Panic settled into Lightning's stomach and all she could think of were all of the ways that Hope could be gunned down on the side of the street. No guards to protect him. No comm to call for help. He didn't even have a weapon to defend himself with.

_Dammit, Hope. This is exactly what I was talking about._

"Yeah, I'm-" The sun's dying rays refracted light off of Cocoon's exterior, causing a rainbow of colors to shine through the air. It drew Lightning's attention, and led her to a conclusion. "I have an idea of where he might be. I'll call you back if I find him." She hung up before receiving a response and ducked back into the car. "Can you take me to the Cocoon facility instead?"

"Most certainly, ma'am."

"Please, call me Lightning."

* * *

Hope stood at the base of Cocoon's pillar, his hand on its lifeless structure, hoping for some kind of sign, a pulse, a vibration. Just so he could know that they were alright. But there was no feeling. The monitors hooked to Cocoon showed no signal. There was nothing.

Nothing at all.

"I'm so sorry. It's not fair that we get to carry on with our lives while you're stuck in there, supporting all of the people that abhorred you." Hope's hand dropped to his side, his forehead taking its place. "It seems... that I can't save anyone. Not my family. Not my friends. But I'm trying. I want you to know that. Even if they find nothing, I'll keep trying and never stop. We will get you out of there. You hear me, Fang and Vanille?" Hope backed away, staring up as far as his sight could reach, narrowing his eyes as if that lone action could give him an extra sense.

Fang and Vanille. They were never far from Hope's mind. He couldn't accept their sacrifice. They had lives to live. This wasn't their destiny. But Cocoon needed a new life source to draw from as Orphan perished by their hand, and they fed Vanille and Fang to it so they could be free.

_Is that what it will take to free you? Another sacrifice?_

The Oerban women's fates weighed heavily on Hope's heart. He couldn't stand that they were stuck in that crystal pillar. Fang and Vanille sacrificed their lives for Cocoon, even after having lost everything to it and the war before. There was no way that their destiny was to keep a dying planet alive. Hope wasn't about to accept that. He couldn't.

_I don't have the right to rest until I make this right._

_Every time I stop. When I eat, laugh, fight with my friends, my family – They can't. Vanille and Fang can't do any of that. For our sake. How can I selfishly take time to myself when they're stuck in there, supporting a world on their crystallized shoulders?_

There was a loud screech from behind him, and Hope turned to see Lightning skidding to a stop. "Hope," Lightning said, her relief palpable before she fixed him with a stern eye.

"Hey, Light. What's...?" Lightning advanced on him, clenching her fists. "What's wrong?"

Lightning stopped mere inches from him, limbs shaking and Hope wondered if he should cover his face. "You left."

"That's what this is about? I told Dornum I was leaving and where I was going. Yes, I did end up changing my mind, but I had to check into the facility. An alert should have popped for Alyssa."

"Alyssa's been trying to reach you. You left your comm at home? You should have called her the moment you realized it wasn't on you."

"But she should have been notified when-"

"She was," Lightning said, walking a tight circle around him. It was amusing to watch Lightning pace. He remembered watching her on Pulse, during long nights and before tough battles. Hope had previously thought that nothing but Serah could phase Lightning, but she worried like everyone else. "She called and told me that you'd signed in. But that's not the point, Hope. You didn't tell us where you were going or that you were _leaving_." She stopped, staring him down and Hope stared back. "No one knew where you were, you don't have your communicator, and you have no one by your side to protect you."

That lit a fire in Hope's belly. "I'm not the weak child that I was, Lightning. I don't need help. I don't need protection. I don't need you or anyone else throwing themselves on the line for me." Hope turned back to Cocoon. There were too many people sacrificing themselves already.

"Let's get one thing straight, Hope," bit Lightning as she grabbed his shoulder, pulling him around to face her. "I will always protect you. Whether you need it or not. You were never weak and no, you are not a child, but you are the Director of the Academy. You are the leader of Academia. If they are targeted-" Hope scoffed, and Lightning snatched Hope's chin before he could look away. "Hey, look at me." Bristling even more at the touch, he wrestled his chin from her grip, but locked his eyes back on hers. "If they are targeted, you're first." She pointed, piercing a finger into his chest. "You're the one they'll come after. Do you really want to leave this place, your citizens, without a leader?"

"Gah!" Hope cried toward the ceiling. His frustration burbled up, because Lightning was right. No matter Hope's feelings, she was right. "I never asked for this. Not any of it. I'm just- just tired. I'm tired of losing everyone and being powerless to stop it. I hate it. I hate... myself. My home... my friends are stuck in that... crystal sphere for Maker knows how long. My mother died, right in front of me. And my father... he didn't have to... And for me. He did it for... I'm just... I can't handle losing another person. Especially if it's for my sake."

"Tsk." Lightning seemed to soften at that. "Hope."

He winced at his name, at what it stood for. He was no better than Orphan, forcing others to sacrifice themselves for his future. "No. You don't get it, Lightning. You don't have people throwing their lives away to save you. You... are strong, unstoppable. You protect and help others." Hope didn't try to hide his admiration for Lightning, but there was a part of him, the tiniest sliver that hated her strength, her unbendable will. "You're not the weak invalid who constantly needs to be saved."

Lightning huffed, holding her hands on her hips and surveying her boots. Thinking. That was Lightning's out-of-her-depth, thinking stance.

"What? Got nothing to say to that?"

"Cheeky brat," Lightning said, pulling him into an embrace. "I've never been good with words. Heh, actions, either."

"This," Hope curled his arms around her, and suddenly felt sick.

This had been what Nivien was talking about. This feeling. Seeking more than just safety and comfort, but this nebulous feeling in his chest that sparked with Lightning's warmth.

He had been a horrible partner.

"This is good," Hope replied. "I dare say this is better."

"Don't think you won't still be getting a lecture."

"Of course not."

Lightning let go, poking her finger back into Hope's chest. "It's okay, Hope. It's okay to need help, or even to have help when you don't."

"You're one to talk."

"I'm learning, okay?" Lightning snapped, but then drew back. "It doesn't mean that you're a child or that you're weak. It means that you're human. And a pretty important one. I promised you that I'd keep you safe. I intend to keep that promise."

* * *

She struggled in her restraints, locked tight in a chasm that swallowed her in darkness. She sobbed and yelled and screamed until her voice turned to squeaks, her throat hoarse and raw. Thrashing and screaming was all that she was capable of. It was her only method of fighting. The last forms of resistance that she had left.

She had to scream. She had to struggle.

Because Yeul was dead.

She buried her head in the sand, praying that Yeul would be alright, but the sand drifted away, sweeping up her denial in its tailwind. She felt Yeul's death in the very marrow of her bones, a cold feeling that rotted her from the inside out. She failed Yeul. In the worst and most horrifying way possible.

Some guardian she was.

She wanted to die. She wanted to find that blissful place that Yeul had found, held against Etro's bosom. But her captors wouldn't allow it. She didn't understand why. They got the information. They killed Yeul. What did they need her for? Was she simply a fun toy?

The woman laid strapped to a stone table, now silent and resigned. Her body, caked with blood and grime, was covered only by the tatters of her green outfit. Her flowing green hair lay a mess, curled with weeks' worth of filth. She watched the walls with despondent, unseeing eyes.

She couldn't take much more. All of the fight had left her. The warrior spirit that she had been praised for had been extinguished. The one person she'd always fought for was gone. There was no point in fighting.

In living.

She was encompassed by a dank, unrelenting darkness. The lone flame of a torch on the wall was the only thing that kept her from being swallowed by the shadows. But the shadows crept closer with each flicker, promising an agony even more crippling than her despair. She clung to the light, found hope in its strength, terror in its shadow.

"How are we today?" The voice echoed its way down the stairs, announcing her tormentor's arrival. Sebastian was a brute of a man, rough in every form of the word. His large hand could snap her neck like a twig, and had, a time or two. She usually welcomed him back with spit to his freckled cheek, but she had nothing for him then. "You've been quiet. All out of fire?"

The woman paid no attention to him, instead watching the flame's light dance and shiver along the stone. A sharp, thunderous pain rippled through her body, crackling in her veins and quaking her bones enough to drag out one aching cry. A thundara. Her body shook in the aftershocks, an uncontrollable jitter seizing her as the hairs on her body stood on end.

She could feel Sebastian's cruel smile, but she refused to turn her gaze away from the torch. She wouldn't give in to him. He'd taken Yeul from her. He would pay for that.

"Zalera~" Sebastian sang. He twirled a strand of her hair around his finger while sliding his other hand down her torso. His hand warmed steadily until it was hot, burning her skin with a fire spell. Her jaw tightened around a whimper. "Zalera, look at me." When she refused, he pushed his hand deeper into the exposed skin of her stomach, scorching her flesh. "Look at me," he growled.

He let go when she finally complied. She stared deeply into his being with ferocious rage, uncaring towards the searing, blistering pain in her abdomen.

Smiling, Sebastian cupped her cheek and brought his face over hers. "That's a good girl. You'll be having company soon enough and we want you on your best behavior." Sebastian gave her cheek a pat before turning on his heel, whistling his way back up the stairs.

Zalera laid there, breathless and nauseated not by her wounds, not by her grief, but from the knowledge that she held inside. She knew who Sebastian was referencing. It was the man that Yeul had seen in her visions. The man that could either save or destroy the last of mankind _._

_If they get ahold of him, humanity won't survive. Nothing will._


	7. Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grief is a difficult enemy to conquer, burgeoning feelings are misunderstood, and one of their own goes missing.

Lightning went through the motions of her morning routine. She was stuck on the sidelines when it came to her GC duties, but she would be working with Hope. What that would entail, she wasn't sure, but she knew it would be better than bouncing off the walls of her apartment.

_What does a director do, anyway?_

Lightning was in the middle of buckling her boots when her comm rang. With a tug and a snap, Lightning finished, grabbing up her comm and answering as she holstered her gunblade. "Farron, here."

The voice on the other end of the line had that smooth, confident quality that Lightning recognized. "Hello. Nivien La Salle. Sergeant Farron, yes?"

"Yes, Lieutenant. This is she."

"Sorry to call you out of the blue, but... are you seeing Ho- Director Estheim today?"

_Why is she calling_ me _about Hope?_

"Yeah. I've been put on temporary leave, so I'm working with him today."

"I see... Well, I..." Nivien paused, long enough to make Lightning's antennae twitch. "I wanted to make sure that you knew what today was... in case no one told you."

Lightning frowned, glancing out her windows into the bustle of the city. Nothing changed. There were no decorations to denote a holiday, no government shut downs that she was alerted to. But whatever it was had to be important. Important enough for a Lieutenant of another squad to search out her number and inform her herself.

Or was this personal business? Lightning thought back to the café, to the empty chairs and open questions.

"I didn't know today was anything special, but... Is this an official notification? Do I need to come in?"

"No. No. This is unofficial business. Nothing to be alarmed about-" There were a few muffled shouts on the other end of the line and Lightning winced at the sharp sound of artillery fire. A GC training ground? Lightning's fingers itched for a good target to take out her frustrations on. "Sorry about that. Um... It's not a special day, per se. It's just... It's the anniversary. Hope's father... Bartholomew, he... he died a year ago today."

The news settled Lightning back down onto her couch. "I... didn't know."

Nivien sighed, sounding weary, but unsurprised. "Hope doesn't talk about it much... or at all, really. I wanted to make sure you knew so you could... I don't know... look out for him? Make sure he's taking care of himself and try to skirt around the subject today. Hope shouldn't be working, but," Nivien chuckled, a hollow, gravelly sound, "he never stops."

Lightning rubbed at her temple, finding that she was going to have her hands full despite being off duty. She wasn't sure what Nivien expected her to do. She could hardly handle her own grief. How was she supposed to help Hope with his? "Thanks for the call. Don't worry. I'll watch out for him."

"Thank you. Have a good day... Lightning."

"Yeah, you too." Lightning sat back, staring a hole into her front door. Her previous excitement drained out of her as she thumbed to end the call. She felt a sudden, swelling desire to bounce off of her walls instead. She laughed bitterly as she thought about hers and Hope's arguments the day before.

" _Did you learn nothing from the assassination attempt?"_

_Maker, I'm such an idiot. I brought it up in one of the worst ways possible the day before the anniversary. I practically threw it in his face._ Lightning groaned. Now Hope's frustration the night before made sense. _Everything he said about his parents dying in front of him... for him. The pain is still fresh. An open wound that I plunged myself into._

_Great going, Farron._

* * *

Lightning rapped the back of her knuckles on Hope's office door. She stared straight ahead, ready to take on her challenge for the day. Help Hope. In more ways than professional, it seemed.

If he opened the door, that is.

There was no answer, and after repeated attempts, Lightning opened the damned thing herself. With caution. She didn't wish for another door-to-nose incident to ensue. But Hope wasn't waiting on the other side of the door. He wasn't too preoccupied at his desk.

Lightning kicked the door shut behind her, standing with her arms crossed and shaking her head at the sight. Hope was sprawled out on the sofa, a book tented on his chest. He was still in his outfit from dinner with a discoloration beneath his eyes that denoted an all-nighter.

_He promised me that he wouldn't work too late. I shouldn't have even let him work at all._

Lightning remembered how Serah looked on the days before exams. Her sister was an impeccable student, but she wasn't immune to the charms of delinquency. She had a few harmless misdemeanors under her belt – cutting class, missing assignments, tardiness, skipping study sessions to gab with girlfriends. At times, this led to cramming. Lightning would come home to find Serah asleep at the kitchen table at 3 am, drooling into a trigonometry textbook instead of taking notes.

Lightning's eyes roved over Hope's desk, noticing just how much work Hope had to do. The thick stack of paperwork that Lightning had noticed before had grown into a tower with a sibling keeping it company. Lightning glanced over the first few documents, whistling at the contents. She didn't know if she would be much help with that. She found herself longing for the headache of trigonometry.

Lightning made her way over to Hope, picking up the weathered, leather-bound book as she carefully slipped it out of his grasp. ' _Fabula Nova Crystallis.' Continuing your research, Hope?_ She looked at Hope's sleeping form, wishing she could grant him more rest. She knew he'd be miserable for the remainder of the day, but for right now, he was serene. As long as he was asleep, the troubles of the real world couldn't touch him. His loss, his pain - Lightning felt it touch a part of her heart where Claire still sat, staring at her door, waiting for her parents to come home.

Hope's chest rose and fell, rose and fell. Lightning sat on the small space by Hope's knees. She was going to wake him, call out to him, shake his arm, tickle him maybe. Vanille did that sometimes. If one of them was deep inside of their dreams on Pulse, she would try to tickle them awake. She did it to Hope the most, said he was the easiest to tickle. Lightning thought the real reason was because Vanille liked to hear him laugh.

Lightning did.

But Lightning did none of those things. She brushed his bangs from his eyes, traced the crescent craters beneath them, cupped his cheek. Her hand fell to slip into Hope's that still rested on his chest. It was the gentlest touch. Lightning could feel the breaths in his body, the knocking of his pulse. She couldn't bear to bring him back to the reality that only sleep could steal him away from. Feeling his warm touch and his calm heartbeat under her hand, Lightning felt something stir inside of her, a stroke of something strange, but not unpleasant.

It brought Lightning back to herself. She dropped her hold of Hope's hand, standing clumsily and turning away from him.

_What is wrong with me? This is Hope. I'm supposed to protect him, not..._

"What am I doing?" Lightning voiced.

Hope stirred, barely moving, but it was enough that it caused Lightning to jump out of her skin. It was as if she were a child sneaking into her parent's room, that guilty fear scaring her stiff. _This is ridiculous._ Before she could do anything else to the unaware Hope before her, she grasped his shoulder and shook him awake.

Hope opened his eyes groggily and sat up. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes with a fist before catching Lightning's presence. "Hey, Light. What time is it?" He looked at the clock on the wall, then back at her. "Are you mad at me or something?"

Lightning fixed him with a stern eye, trying to cover her teetering emotions. A part of Hope's hair was standing up, messily out of place from sleeping. It was kind of hilarious and Lightning had to force her emerging smile back. "It's a quarter to seven. When did you fall asleep?"

"I-I don't know. I started reading around four, so sometime after that, I guess." Lightning crossed her arms and cocked her hip to the side, voicing her displeasure through her rigid stance. Hope sighed through his nose as he stood up and took his book from her grip. "I know. You don't have to yell at me. I meant to go home... I was distracted by my research and crashed." He gave her his sweet look of innocence, pleading for her to let it lie.

There was that feeling again. Strange. So very strange and Lightning found her disapproval melting.

_Today is about Hope's father. I can worry about… this later._

"Hope. You should go home. Get some rest."

"Is something wrong? Did I-" Hope stepped toward her, but she sidestepped around him and stood in front of the couch.

"No, you're fine, but... you need your rest and-"

"You know. Don't you?" Hope's gaze fell, his grip tightening around the book.

"Really, you look like hell. You should get some sleep. I can have Alyssa help me with the stuff I don't understand and do some of your work for you."

Hope smiled back at her, a smile too meek and tired to help his case. "No, Light, I'm fine." He stretched out his arms, high enough that it tugged his shirt up, exposing a slip of skin and a trail of fine silver hairs that Lightning _did not see_. He tossed the book onto the couch and walked over to the work bench covered in odd metal parts and gizmos. "I've got spare uniforms fit for these circumstances." Opening the lone center drawer, he lifted a stack of clothes. "I'll take a shower in the shop, get changed and meet you back here in a half hour. Sound good?" He shut the drawer with a swing of his hip, keeping his gaze pointedly out of view.

Lightning arched a brow. _So that's how you never leave the office._ "I can handle this. You're not opting out of work entirely, you're covered."

"No," Hope said, stern and unyielding and Lightning was unused to that. "I need to work. I'm okay... trust me." Lightning reached out to give him a reassuring squeeze on the arm, but he jerked away from her. "Please don't do this, Light."

"Do what?" Hope was a tactile person. Physical assurances were supposed to be a comfort.

Hope rubbed his eyes with a thumb and forefinger before looking at her. His eyes were filled with unrestrained emotion, letting Lightning peer into his internal scars. "It's enough that I'll have to face everyone else today. See their sad and concerned faces, hear their apologies. They'll do their best to comfort me, but I don't want their pity. I just want to get through today, okay?" He stared at the clothes in his hand, rubbing his shirt between his fingertips. "I thought that I would catch a break since you didn't know, but I guess... you found out."

Lightning took in his words. It took all of her to not give him that pitiful expression that he despised. Instead she walked over to him and gave him a small pat on the back. Immediately she switched into soldier mode as she backed off, giving him exactly what he wanted. Her specialty: detachment from emotion. "Alright, Director. Get your ass in gear then."

"Thanks, Light."

* * *

The workshop was empty. No one was due for another two hours so Hope had the floor to himself. There were three showers in the back of the shop. Hope chose the last. For the first few moments Hope stood there, letting the hot water run down his body, rinsing the grime of the past day away with the grief that he felt festering inside of him. He leaned himself against the door of the shower stall, overwhelmed by the barrage of memories.

He remembered everything. Every single detail. The duration of the incident did not exceed a handful of minutes, but it felt like an eternity as he watched his father fall to the floor, clutching at his chest, coughing out pleas for Hope to run. As his father hit the ground, the assassin aimed his gun at a frozen Hope, his finger on the trigger, a red spot dead center on Hope's chest. Hope could have died right there, but the gunman had been shot dead from behind. The gun clacked to the ground, snapping Hope out of his shock. He knelt by his father and grabbed onto his shirt, shaking him.

His father's eyes were closed.

He wasn't breathing.

He was gone.

Hope's father and three men lost their lives in exchange for his own. And just like with Hope's mother, he hadn't gotten to say goodbye.

_I can't do this. I'll never get through today if I keep letting my mind fall back there._

* * *

Lightning dropped herself into Hope's chair, staring down the intimidating stacks of paperwork cluttering his desk. They were tall enough to erect a wall, barring her sight from the rest of the room. _Etro, Hope. No wonder you're a workaholic._ With a displeased frown, Lightning snatched up a handful, eying the various subjects the pages covered. Site survey requests. City construction plans. Mission requests. Project proposals. Invention applications. Resource allocation requests. Joint venture requests with the Academy. All of it was enough to make her head spin. "I can't do anything," Lightning admitted as she laid the papers back down. She remembered quickly why it was that she'd chosen to be a grunt on the ground. Working from behind a desk wasn't as satisfying or stimulating as being out in the field.

Lightning decided to wait until Hope's return to work on any of the paperwork, instead taking on the mind-numbing, but simple task of organizing the papers by subject. That way she could make herself useful and keep busy.

Because when she didn't keep busy, her thoughts tended toward endless lamentations.

_Why?_

_Why did it have to end like this? Why did Fang and Vanille have to get stuck in Cocoon? Why weren't the rest of them utilized as a new Cocoon power source? Why couldn't they have woken at the same time? Why did Sazh have to wait years for his son to return to his arms? Why did Hope's father have to die and leave him burdened with this mess?_

_Why did Hope have to end up alone?_

_Why did I?_

Lightning felt the questions knot into a tight ball in her throat. She stopped herself before she could think of Serah. Of the wedding she may never have. Of the life she was being deprived of.

"Damn, this is not the time for this." Lightning pivoted her thoughts. They weren't alone. Sazh, Hope and Lightning had each other. Dajh, Serah and Snow would wake up. They would live their lives.

But Hope's parents…

_They aren't ever coming back. Great, another orphan to join the rest of us. Welcome to the club, Hope._

Lightning laughed at herself. She was definitely not the right person to cheer up the bereaved. She wanted to help Hope, more than anything. She could still feel the beat of Hope's heart in her hand, his warmth on her skin. It was indescribable how much those sensations calmed her. Made her feel safe in a world as new and precarious as theirs.

And once again she was left with that familiar question.

_Why?_

There was a swift, prompt double knock on the door before it popped open. "Morning, Director," came Alyssa's chipper voice, her smile following after. Then she noticed Lightning. Her smile shrank. "Hello there, Lightning. I didn't expect to find you in here." Her head bobbed around the stack of papers, eyes scanning the room. "Can I assist you with… something?" Alyssa's smile bottomed out into a flat line as she looked at the papers in Lightning's hands, then the stacks she had been constructing.

"Nope. All good here."

"Oh, well... Where is the director?"

"Shower." Lightning turned back to her handful of papers, wanting to stave off any unwanted conversation.

"If there is anything that you wanted to speak with him about, I'm sure I could help you with it. The Director is a very busy per-"

"There isn't," Lightning said, more than a little curt.

Alyssa huffed. She reached toward a stack, but the soldier grabbed her wrist.

"That's not necessary. I'm looking over these."

She could feel the disapproval in Alyssa's prying gaze, the way she oozed offended as she clutched her clipboard tightly. "No offense, Lightning, but much of the director's work is very complicated... not to mention classified. I'm sorry, but I think I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Icy eyes darted up to Alyssa's. "Hope already knows I'm here." Alyssa's expression turned puzzled, her posture still rigid with apparent agitation. "I'm helping him today. He said that I could."

"I… wasn't notified, but I... guess that's fine. I wasn't sure he would be working today, because of... Plus he worked so late last night, but that is hardly unusual."

Hearing that, Lightning felt herself click into protective mode. "And you let him?" Lightning stood and walked towards her, backing her into a corner. Alyssa's eyes widened as her back hit the wall, holding her clipboard up to her chin as she bit her lip. "You let Hope work himself to death and say nothing? You knew he was here last night when he should have been asleep? What's the matter with you? Do you just smile and do whatever he asks? Some friend you are."

"With all due respect, Sergeant," Alyssa said with a slight head tilt at the title, "he isn't my friend."

"What?"

"As much as I wish we were, we aren't friends. Hope has made it quite clear that we have a working relationship. He is my boss. I have no say in his actions. I have expressed my concern about his over dedication to his job before, but it's not my place."

* * *

Hope stood outside of his office, willing himself to open the door.

_I can't. I can't face her._

After his shower, Hope remembered the reason why he spent the entire night reading through the book. The urgent message that Alyssa tried to get to Hope the day before was about the crystal mission.

They found nothing. Thirty men, including Sazh and Rygdea, searched throughout all of Etro's shrine and found nothing. The team was currently on their way back. A meeting had been set to reevaluate the plan and judge whether it was worth the manpower and resources to continue their search. As much as he hated the thought, Hope knew the likeliness of the mission's continuance wasn't in his favor. If the crystals existed, they could be anywhere on Gran Pulse. They couldn't search the world. They needed to focus on rebuilding and protecting what was left of their civilization.

It had been a long shot in the first place, but Hope believed in the crystals. He could feel their existence in his blood. Etro's shrine hadn't just been a logical location for a crystal. Hope felt drawn to it, like something inside of him told him a crystal shard existed there.

Despite the logic, despite Hope's feeling, the crystal wasn't there. Hope couldn't deny a hard fact, no matter how maddening the truth was. Now Hope was going to have to face his friends, NORA… and Lightning. Hope shook himself, staring forward.

He didn't expect to open his office door and find Lightning and Alyssa staring each other down. "Um... Light? Alyssa? What's-"

Alyssa dropped her gaze, brightening as she turned toward him. "Director, we were just..." she glanced at Lightning, who was now staring the wall down with crossed arms, "just having a chat about your workload. How are you today? You look a little tired."

"I'm alright," Hope said, taking a seat at his desk and blinking at the newly segregated columns. "I have a lot of paperwork to get through today and Lightning will be assisting me with it. If you could take notes for me at the one o'clock meeting and meet with the... Kurchek Tech company for me at three, I would greatly appreciate it."

Alyssa shifted, crinkling her nose minutely with another furtive glance in Lightning's direction. "Of course, Director, but you know I could help you with some of your paperwork as well?" She bounced on her heels with a pleasant smile, folding her hands behind her back.

"That would be unnecessary, but thank you."

"…Alright then."

As Alyssa closed the door, Hope turned toward Lightning. She was still staring at the previously occupied corner, arms crossed, like she wanted to punch it. "What was that about?" Hope asked.

"I'm not fond of your assistant."

* * *

Hours passed following the same repetitive patterns. Page after page. Task after task. Signature after signature. It wasn't without conversation, the occasional joke and laugh. Lightning felt like she was back in school, studying new, droning subjects with an old friend.

"You ever think about hiring someone to help you," Lightning paused, gaze sweeping across the papers strewn across her lap and the rest of the couch, "manage all of this?"

"That depends." Hope lowered the paper he was reading at his desk, meeting her exasperated look with a smirk "Are you applying?"

"Hah. I'm serious. Like an assistant for your assistant."

Hope clicked his tongue, stapling his pages together before setting them in the done… area. It was hardly a pile anymore. "At this rate I would need a team of assistants."

"No. Never mind. I don't think I could take an army of Alyssas."

"An army you can't handle? That's a scary idea, indeed," Hope laughed. "She's really quite qualified."

"What is it that she does? Because so far," Lightning scooped up an armload of papers, holding them up, "I'm not impressed," she said, and then dumped them on top of Hope's finished work. "This, for example," Lightning snapped up a page that Hope's hand was hovering over, narrowing her eyes to read the first few sentences before snorting at its contents, "This briefing on Flan species and breeding patterns. Surely she-"

Hope's holo screen flashed to life before him, his features darkening as he read over a message. "Sorry," Hope apologized before waving the page out of existence. "An alert flagged about an incoming flight. Look," Hope swallowed, tugging at his collar and Lightning already didn't like this turn in conversation, "we need to talk about something."

Hope made his way over to the couch, clearing away the papers with as little care as if he were sweeping away stray leaves. He sat, gesturing for her to take a seat. His gaze wouldn't meet hers. "Let's talk."

Lightning really didn't like this. "Is that an order?"

"Light. Please. Sit down."

_I guess it is._

"I really should have said something earlier, but... I couldn't formulate a proper segue into this. I was scared to say something, if I'm being honest. I still am." He rubbed the back of his neck, fiddled with his gloves, and held true to himself with every other nervous tick Lightning had ever witnessed from Hope.

All of it put Lightning on edge until she was ready to jump off of it. "Say it, Hope."

"They didn't find anything, Light."

"What do you mean? Who…?" Lightning's brain caught up, understanding creeping over her confusion. No wonder Hope looked like someone died.

It felt like she was losing Serah all over again.

"It's the reason why I was reading the book so late last night. I was trying to find more clues."

Lightning's eyes sped all over the room, frantically searching for something to look at, to see, to focus on, but nothing held her gaze. Nothing curbed the tears that crept toward her eyelids. She knew better than to hope. She damned well _knew_ , but she let herself be swayed by its sweet beckoning. "So what does that mean? Where do we go from here?" She managed to keep her voice even, unaffected. Somehow.

"That… We will discuss our future course of this investigation and-" Hope's apprehension was apparent as he tripped over responses, giving her some noncommittal garbage he would tell a member of the general public. He knew better than to do that. She watched Hope's expression cave under her stare. "We... or I go over the plans again with the general and Rygdea. We decide if it's worth searching more possible locations."

"They might continue with the plan?"

Hope couldn't look at her for more than a second. That told her everything. "The future of the plan depended on this mission. Without its success, I highly doubt that they'll move forward... It took all of the clout I had to get the board to agree to this. I won't stop," Hope said, insisting with a tight fist, before it loosened. "I would be lying if I said it would matter. I may be the director, but executive authority can be difficult to actualize."

"But-" Lightning breathed in a stuttered, heavy breath, letting out a laugh as she reined in her fraying emotions. It was funny. How little she could do. How little she could control as a piss ant soldier. She was expected to swallow her powerlessness, accept it just like she was supposed to accept her position on Cocoon and leave her sister to fate.

She couldn't. She spat in the face of authority then and she would do so again. For her sister. Anything for her sister. Lightning was battle ready, turning back to Hope. His tortured expression stopped her.

_That's right. It's Hope's face that I would be spitting in._

_It must be killing him. He has all of the power he could have as head of state, but he doesn't have the power to do this. To save his family or Cocoon._

_None of us do._

It hurt to admit that, a pain that cracked open Lightning's chest, battered her heart, left it bleeding. At least on Cocoon they had an enemy, a fight to be won. Now… the only targets left to beat up were each other.

Hope's arms were there as Lightning was ready to dive into despair. They wrapped around her, held her up, and with that firm grasp Lightning found herself voluntarily breaking. Her control slipped right from her tired hands and into Hope's who let her dissolve into the moping, grieving sister she never let herself be. She cried, sobbed, gave in to the welling frustration until her fists found Hope's chest. She hit and hit and hit because it was the last thing she had - her will to destroy. She targeted Hope, his powerlessness.

Or maybe it was her own powerlessness that she was trying to beat. Manifesting a physical confrontation with something that would forever elude her fists.

Hope didn't let go. Lightning burned through her frustration, her rage, her sorrow, until she held him back. Lightning found herself glad that she wasn't the lone soldier anymore. Hope granted Lightning a feeling of togetherness that she only ever felt when with her sister.

"I'm sorry," Lightning sniffed, hastily wiping away tears. She felt stripped bare, exposed down to her bones.

"For what?" he asked, returning to his seat at his desk. His eyes perused another page as if nothing happened.

"Thank you," was all she said before assuming her previous work. Although Hope had been unbelievably kind in pretending that she hadn't made a fool of herself, Lightning couldn't help her need to berate herself. _I can't believe I did that. I have no right. Not when it's his father's... Serah is still alive. I should be helping Hope with his grief._

* * *

"A lunch break isn't usually on my agenda," Hope said as they took the steps down from the entrance of the Academy.

"What a shock. Let me guess, it's a little less break and a lot more work."

"Guilty." Hope bowed his head with a chuckle. "When I do take a lunch break I tend to frequent one place in particular and it's a wonderful day for it." Hope looked up at the sky, forever amazed at how organic everything felt even after six years. Sunlight came down in patches through quilted clouds, the sky as blue as anything Hope had ever seen. He loved it. He loved Pulse's sky and living beneath it. The weather was unpredictable. The rain couldn't be operated by switches or orbs. Snow wasn't planned around events. The sun was hot regardless of complaints. It was that unpredictability and lack of control that made bright, blue sky days enjoyable.

Hope led Lightning to a street vendor, a kiosk called Academia's Finest. Jun, an elderly woman Hope knew well, took their order. Hope felt embarrassment flare as she fawned over him, bragging about his growth to Lightning like a mother would. When their food was finished Hope practically fled to the stone steps of the Academy where the two sat and ate.

"Just ignore everything she said. Everything," Hope breathed.

"Not a chance." Lightning shook her head. "Jun seems nice."

"She is. She's really nice."

"Talkative, too."

"That, too," Hope groaned into his food.

"You know each other, or come here a lot…?"

"I used to, but... as I said I don't eat lunch much so it has been," Hope looked up at the clouds, mentally calculating how much time had passed since he had seen her, "a long time," he finished, shame in his smile.

"And..."

Hope raised a brow. "And what?"

"Nothing," Lightning replied with a look that certainly meant something. She looked around, her attention catching briefly on the giggles of girls as they trotted down the stairs. "A peaceful little world. Everyone looks just as happy as before, going about their lives as if they are still cradled on Cocoon. Like nothing has changed."

"I think they're happier here." Hope's gaze traveled over the citizens, reveling in the smiles and the laughter. "It's freedom that they're cherishing, instead of safety."

When he finished eating, Hope leaned back on the steps, stared up at clouds that drifted low. Low enough that Hope felt like he could reach out his hand and touch them. Through them. Through the atmosphere. Into another plane. Another existence.

He reached out, but his hand met nothing.

Nothing but air.

"Light, I have a question for you, but you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Lightning chewed slowly, cautiously, glancing down at him from the corner of her eye, then at his outstretched hand. "Shoot."

"Does the pain ever lessen?" He didn't take his eyes away from the sky, even as his hand fell back down to Pulse. "Of a loved one's death, I mean."

"What?" Lightning set the rest of her sandwich down, her brow crinkling with her wrapper.

Hope ran his hand down his tie as he sat back up. "It's alright, Light. Like I said, you don't have to answer. It's a personal, invasive subject to broach. I know."

"No. I want to, just..." Lightning brought her hand up to her mouth, covering it as she chewed and swallowed. Hope watched her for any physical cues of pain or fear or anger. Traces of Lightning's emotions tended to be minuscule, but Hope knew where to look. All he could find was discomfort. "I don't think I'm the right person to ask."

"Why not?"

"I'd like to say yes, that with time the pain lessens and slowly fades, but... I think that... I forced it to fade. By not letting myself dwell on my past, I cut off most of my emotions with them."

"You don't think about your parents?"

Lightning's smile was slight, private, and Hope chose to look back at the clouds instead. "I do think of them every once in a while. It's hard to push them out completely, so I do feel the pain sometimes. Like I said, I'm not the person to ask." She finished, wiping her hands of the crumbs of her sandwich, and of the remains of the conversation, it seemed.

"Thank you."

Lightning looked at Hope skeptically, as if she thought he was being sarcastic or insincere. "I didn't-"

Hope's gaze fell from the sky, sunk into the one in Lightning's eyes. "You told me how you honestly felt. You didn't give me some cheap answer in an attempt to make me feel better. Thank you, Light."

"Hope, do you want to… never mind. It's a stupid idea."

Sitting up, he gave her his full attention. "What?"

"Ugh. I was wondering if you... wanted to know how my parents died." She averted her gaze from him, but Hope leaned in and poked her in the forehead.

"Yes, but only if you want to tell me." Hope laughed as Lightning stared up where his finger had been, disoriented by the gesture that was so distinctly Lightning to Hope, before she flashed him a wry smile.

"When did you get so cheeky?" Lightning stood up, collecting their trash before depositing it in the nearest waste bin. She sat back beside Hope, staring forward the way she always did. Lightning only ever looked forward.

Until now.

"My father died when I was six. It was a head on collision and my mother had been in the car with him. They said it was a miracle that she survived, but it was as if a piece of her died in there with him... My sister was too young to notice. What three year old would? Hell, I didn't notice until almost _two years_ later." Lightning's voice remained strong, but clinical, as if these were someone else's memories. Not her own. "She never looked at another car the same way again. And the way she hugged us, there was such desperation in her eyes, like she thought that every time she embraced us it would be the last." Lightning dropped her head, her bangs shadowing her expression. There was a tremor in her hands. She held them together, but it didn't stop.

"Serah said that she was jealous of me because I could remember our father. I wished that I didn't. I know now that the thought is childish, but... By the time I was fifteen, my mother had to be hospitalized. She never made it out. We sat in her room, watched with big, confused eyes as she died a little more each day until her heart finally gave out."

Hope sat with the new information, let it digest. When Lightning told him her parents had died, he assumed it was some unfortunate accident, two orphans left with more questions than either of them could carry. To have to watch your parent die like that…

His mother's descent into the blackness was the first thing that Hope thought of.

_No, that's wrong. As much as I wish that I could have said goodbye… to either of them… I wouldn't have wanted that._ Hope couldn't imagine watching his mother or his father die for days on end. He wouldn't want them to lay in torturous agony. Hope wondered how Lightning's mother felt, sick in front of her two daughters, making them bear witness to her suffering.

Hope put his hand over Lightning's, attempting comfort. Lightning was letting him in. Although her story was wrought with pain, he couldn't help feeling joy at taking a step closer to her, seeing a bit further inside. He had never dreamed that the soldier, his mentor, great friend, and secret love of his life would ever open up to him this much. It meant that he was doing something right.

Hope squeezed her hand and Lightning looked back up at him. Her expression appeared expectant for the briefest moment, as if poking, prodding, but then it was gone. Her hand fell from his as she swept a finger over his bruised face. "How's your nose?"

The corner of Hope's lip twitched upwards. "How's the leg?"

"What a pair we make."

It was at that moment that Hope's comm chose to go off. He groaned inwardly, bowing his head in apology toward Lightning. "Director Estheim... Right... No... I'll be right there, Alyssa... Thanks." Hope hung up and put his hand on Lightning's shoulder. "Time to get back to work. Care to join me in a meeting?"

"Oh joy." Lightning said with a roll of the eyes. "First paperwork and now a meeting. You sure know how to show a girl a good time."

Hope tripped on a step, laughing as he almost fell over. "At least the food was good. Can't say much for the company." Hope turned and ran up the steps, out of Lightning's reach.

"What was that about my company, Estheim?!"

* * *

"Early," Hope said as he sat at the table in meeting room three, running his hands over the wood. "I feel like I deserve a pat on the back."

"Don't look at me," Lightning said, taking the chair beside him. "I think Alyssa is the one who deserves it. She did remind you."

"Heh." Hope winced, "Yeah. You're right."

At exactly four o'clock on the dot, a knock sounded from the door, a crisp double tap. Alyssa greeted them with a wide smile, followed by a man that Lightning assumed was the person they were there for. Her first observation of the newcomer was that he was the professional sort - pressed suit and tie, straight backed posture, black, shoulder length hair trimmed neatly, face clean shaven. His shoes and glasses were polished to perfection. Her next observation was his height. He towered over Alyssa. If Lightning were the betting sort, she would have placed him centimeters from Snow's height, though his build was nowhere near Snow's bulk. He also appeared to be a man of considerable means and confidence. A politician, Lightning would have guessed, due to the quality of his clothes and briefcase. His smug smirk spoke of a heightened, upper-class arrogance, but the look in his eyes as he spotted Hope spoke of a trustworthy ally.

"Here we are, Mr. Hildough," Alyssa said with a bow before acknowledging Hope and Lightning and exiting.

Hope stood, hand outstretched. "It's been a while, Reuben."

The man grinned and accepted the gesture, taking Hope's hand in his grip. A firm grip, judging by the twitch of pain in Hope's expression. "Too long, Kid Director," Reuben laughed as Hope rolled his eyes. His voice had a deep, rich baritone, words direct with his eye contact.

"They're still calling me that, I suppose."

"Only when you are not in their company. Who is our lovely companion today?" Reuben came to stand before Lightning who rose an unimpressed brow.

"This is Sergeant Lightning Farron. She's a good friend of mine and is assisting me today. Light, this is Reuben Hildough, Representative of Academia."

Reuben held his hand out differently for Lightning than he did for Hope, as if he was waiting for her to put her dainty fingertips into his palm so he could kiss her knuckles, but Lightning was having none of that. She'd been judged by her gender on too many arenas for her to accept such a gesture, well-intentioned or not. She gripped onto Hildough's hand and shook it firmly. She sat back down, satisfied at the slack of his expression.

Reuben blinked, closing his hand and bringing it back to himself. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise."

Hope clapped his hands together once everyone was settled around the table. "I assume that you've spoken with the general?"

"I have," Reuben nodded. "He has explained to me the Yeul situation. Unfortunate. I understand you think she was some sort of psychic?"

"We have reason to believe so. We aren't sure, but we do need to know if the Sanctum has had any involvement in her death, or if they have any knowledge of her at all. I would like an answer before we pursue the situation further."

Reuben shifted uneasily in his seat. "I am flattered by your confidence in my skills, but you do know that this is the Sanctum we are talking about, right? Most likely anything I say or do will end in futility. I mean, yes, they are willing to negotiate on certain matters with me, but this..."

Hope's smile thinned, his fingers drumming on the table in thought. "Yes, we are well aware, but it is mainly a precaution. We want to cover all of our bases. To them, it won't be the real reason you're there. Just a side discussion you will bring up while informing them of our expansion and discussing more about our current trade negotiations."

The crisp, double knock that Lightning recognized as distinctly Alyssa sounded from the door. "Yes," Hope answered.

Alyssa peeked through the doorway with an apologetic wince. "May I speak with you, Director? It's urgent."

"Of course. If you'll excuse me for a moment."

Hope exited behind Alyssa, leaving Lightning with the uncomfortable task of making small talk.

"So," Reuben began, "you would not happen to be the previous l'Cie, Lightning, would you?"

Lightning wasn't fond of political types. They seemed to be adversaries of silence, slaying it with whatever thoughts entered their minds. "That I am."

"Ah, I see. I have heard stories of your great feats of strength and your constant challenging of the impossible. I must say that I am quite impressed." He smoothed a hand down the lapel of his jacket, then the other. "I thought our good director had been overstating your beauty. I apologize for my mistake."

And then there was flattery. Lightning hated flattery. If this were any other situation, Lightning would tell him and anyone else who dared to approach her to buzz off, usually with a lot less tact and an implied threat as she would reach toward the hilt of her gunblade. But this was a powerful ally of Hope's involved in the delicate affairs of the Sanctum. Lightning had to be careful with her handling of this man and his pride.

"Terribly sorry about that," Hope apologized as he stepped into the room, freeing Lightning from her quandary.

"No, it is quite alright." Reuben stood, briefcase in hand. "I best be off. I have another meeting to attend and arrangements to make before I head off to the city of the ignorant, pig-headed Sanctum."

Lightning couldn't help but smile. Maybe the guy was alright.

Hope laughed. "Already? We really must meet up some time soon. It's been far too long."

"Yes, well, Miss Harleen will be having her annual soiree in due time."

"…Right, wouldn't want to miss that."

Reuben chuckled, clapping Hope on the shoulder. "I am sure she will not be so forward this time." He turned to Lightning, correcting his earlier assumption to give her a formal hand shake. "I do hope you come along, too. It would be a blessing to have such an astonishing young woman in our midst." Hope averted his gaze to the floor as Reuben and Lightning shook hands, the representative slipping something into her grasp. "Well, I am off."

Hope shook his head, a knowing gleam to his eye. "Get his card?"

Lightning opened her palm, revealing Reuben's business card. "How'd you know?"

"I had a hunch." Hope shrugged. "It was obvious enough that he was interested, and I'm usually pretty dense when it comes to flirtation. Plus, who wouldn't take the chance to hit on you?" Hope grinned as Lightning scoffed and elbowed him in the side.

"You're almost as bad as he is."

Over the next few hours Hope worked in the shop on the perimeter poles for the shield project, all the while explaining the basics of the construction to Lightning. The wiring was the most intricate and time-consuming part, absorbing the bulk of Hope's concentration, so there wasn't much conversation between the two. By the time he finished with a second pole, Lightning cut him off.

"Light, I-"

"No, you need rest." Lightning pulled Hope's hands forward, plucking his gloves off before he could object. "You owe me for yesterday."

Hope made that throaty whine sound, displeased but resigned. "Why do I get the feeling that I'm going to be working a lot less with you around?"

"Yeah, yeah. You are going _home_ to sleep. I will drag you back to that house if I have to."

"I… might enjoy that." Lightning threw his gloves in his face. Hope tucked them into his back pocket, snatching up his jacket and buttoning it back up. "No. That won't be necessary, but I do have to stop back in my office."

"Then I'll accompany you."

"To my office?"

"Mm-hm. Someone has to supervise you, make sure you correct your bad habits."

"I've never had a nanny before."

"I am no one's nanny." Lightning stopped with a glare. "And that's hard to believe for a sniveling, spoiled rich kid."

"That's… true, but uncalled for."

"I tell it like it is."

* * *

They entered Hope's office and he made a beeline for his bookshelf, filling his arms with book after book. Lightning frowned at the sight of the new pile of papers on Hope's desk. It wasn't near the size of the old one, but it was hefty enough. "That's depressing."

"Yeah, it kinda is, isn't it?" He stepped away from the shelves and brought his haul over to his desk.

"Those aren't going with you. You're going home to rest, not to continue working under the guise of reading," Lightning scolded, putting a hand on her hip.

"Compromise?" Hope tried with his boyish, begging smile. "I gotta do something."

"Yeah, relax. That's all you need to do."

"Fine." Hope blew out a sigh, flopping himself back onto the couch. "Light?"

"You were going to read all of these tonight?" Lightning picked through the books Hope had chosen, weighing them in her hands. She looked up to find Hope's gaze expectant, worried. "What?"

"Why did you tell me about your parents?"

Lightning dropped the book she had been holding, "Shi-" She tried to catch it. Its thump on the ground was about as loud as her heartbeat. "Sorry." She settled it safely back amongst the rest. "Where did that come from?"

"Don't get me wrong. I'm glad that you did, but... why?"

Lightning flicked through a dozen responses, some of them cheap, some of them defensive, all of them crap. This was why she didn't talk to people about her problems. It would always come back at her when she was the least prepared. That and she never wanted her past and her private thoughts to be wielded against her.

Hope was different.

_Hope is safe._

"I didn't want you to keep your pain bottled up like I do. I thought that maybe if I told you... showed you that I could, you would too." She tried to look into his eyes, but Hope was busy playing with the cuff of his sleeve. "It's something Serah used to do to me. She would tell me something and I would have to reciprocate. I'm sorry. It was wrong and... manipulative-"

"Don't." Hope looked back up into her eyes. "Don't apologize. I'm grateful for your concern, Light. I am, but..." Hope stared at the desk for a long, silent moment. Lightning followed his gaze to the photo frame. The one of Rygdea, Hope… and Bartholomew. They looked happy, arm in arm, and Lightning felt like she was looking at a different life. Just as she did when standing in Hope's house in Palumpolum, looking at a Hope she didn't know and a woman she never would.

"I-I guess I could," Hope whispered, before flashing her a mischievous smile. "I'll share something, but only if I get to take my books home."

"Fine."

Hope laid himself back on the couch, crossing his legs, stretching an arm back behind his head. He stared at the ceiling like he was looking through it, up toward the sky. His voice was low, each word seeming to bob harshly in his throat. "We were on the fifth floor of the building. My... dad called me in to discuss the Sanctum. W-we had been receiving threats from them for a while, but the number of them had grown significantly within the past few weeks. Because of that, he wanted to keep me... safe. He was going to put me on lock down in our house guarded by G.C. soldiers." Hope's distaste clipped off of his teeth, an anger like venom on his tongue.

"I refused. I didn't want to be cowering in my house while others had to deal with the threat. We began arguing and- I was so stupid. I should have just... Next thing I knew, we were hearing gunshots. Two guards went down in front of us." Hope's breath hitched, and he was up on his feet, turned away from her. He picked up a rusted gadget from his able, turned it this way and that. "It happened so fast. The shooting... the shouts. I couldn't even see who was shooting until my father got hit. I- I just... and I froze. When my father fell to the ground it was like I couldn't move.

"Then I saw the man. He was disguised in a G.C. uniform. I heard shouts from... Nivien behind me telling me to get down, but I couldn't move my body. I thought for sure that I was going to die, but then... he was shot in the back of the head. He was dead and so was my father. I-"

He stopped abruptly, voice crackling with pain. She couldn't see his face, but she could feel Hope's tears as if they were her own, his pain a different, burning brand in her chest.

Lightning remembered Bartholomew. He was a proud man left broken by his wife's death. He could have hated them for killing his wife, blamed them for his son's fate. Instead he helped them. Lightning didn't know the workaholic Hope had despised. She didn't know the man smiling in the picture. But she knew this Bartholomew, the one that would die for his son.

"I didn't get to say goodbye. He was just gone. Alive. Dead. As quick and decisive as the flip of a coin."

Lightning turned Hope into her arms, embraced him with as much sympathy and understanding as she could. Not pity. Never pity. Hope wasn't someone to be pitied. He survived too much for that. Hope tried to pull back, tried to smile. Lightning shook her head, wiped at the tears until Hope calmed.

"We should get going," Lightning suggested quietly.

"Yeah." Hope began collecting his things, face nearly dry before his door opened, slamming against the wall to reveal Maqui.

"Don't you knock?" Lightning asked with a disapproving sneer.

"Perks to being the director's best friend." Maqui grinned, unabashed.

"Whatever, Maqui. You make those perks up yourself," Hope mused.

Maqui clapped Hope on the back, leaning in, "What, it's not like I interrupted anything, right?"

Hope snorted, pushing Maqui back by the chest. "What did you want?"

Maqui instantly sobered, rubbing his arm and bouncing from foot to foot. "I didn't get a chance to see you today and I, uh..."

"Lebreau sent you here, didn't she?"

"Hey, it's not like I don't care about you. I just don't have the need to fuss over you like she does." Maqui huffed, crossing his arms.

"Don't pout. You can tell her that I'm fine."

"Good. And I don't pout. I sulk. Sulking is more manly," Maqui stated, sticking his chin out.

"Is that what they call it?" Lightning walked passed Maqui who flinched like she was going to hit him. She held out her hands, motioning for Hope to hand over a portion of his haul of books. "Because I'm pretty sure that was a pout."

Maqui stuck his tongue out at her from a safe distance, hiding behind Hope.

"Don't use me as a shield."

Hope was in the middle of locking up as Maqui gave him a weak punch to the bicep. "I am sorry, Hope. It… It sucks, man."

Hope mustered a small smile. "Thanks."

* * *

Hope didn't fancy himself a particularly courageous man. Nor did he deem himself a coward. But there was one place that scared Hope, down deep into the lonely child he still was at heart, and that was his house. He stood in the entryway, Lightning's footsteps echoing their retreat, left with the same silent solitude that had become his unwelcome partner. His sighs were too loud, his own shuffling amplified by the quiet.

"Hello again," Hope said to the house, patting the banister of the stairwell. "I'm home." He never expected a response, yet his ears still perked, ready for a return greeting. He supposed the creak in the floorboards beneath his feet was the house's grumbling welcome. He hefted his books a bit higher in his arms, depositing them onto his desk before retreating to his room.

Divesting himself of his Academy gear, Hope was in the midst of shucking his tie when he stumbled over his clothes from the day before. He caught his footing, looking at the pile and then his bed, the pile then the bed, back to the pile. "You are not a disorganized person," Hope told himself, echoing what were once his mother's sentiments. Huddling them up in a ball, Hope paused as an envelope slipped free. It was the one from the day before, the hidden envelope from beneath his desk. Hope hesitated in opening it, contradictory feelings leaving him frozen. On one hand he was a scientist with an insatiable curiosity. On the other…

_This can only belong to one person._

He was still that little boy that hid from the monsters in his closet.

Dropping his clothing ball, Hope perched himself on the edge of his bed, thumbing the corners of the envelope. His gloved finger slipped beneath the seal to tear it open. Hope didn't breathe as he pulled out the contents to find a letter. A lonely, forgotten letter.

Written in his father's handwriting.

_Dear Hope,_

_First of all, I want to say that I'm sorry. If you are reading this it means that I have left this world in one way or another. No matter the reason for my departure, I am sorry._

_I decided to write this in dedication to your mother. She tried to get me to write one numerous times over the years. When I saw how much you cherished her letter, I figured it was about time for me to write my own. I told Nora that the reason I never wrote one was because it was bad luck. That once you wrote out your goodbyes, it was only a matter of time before you'd die. Truth was, I never knew what to say. For the past month I have agonized over the contents of this letter. I found it turned out to be more of an apology than a goodbye._

_I really am sorry, Hope. I'm sorry for never being there for you and your mother. I paid the price when I heard the news about the events in Bodhum. I wasn't there to protect you. I should have been and I regret it every day. Although I lost Nora, I felt unbelievably lucky when I saw you in the doorway that day. I don't know what I would have done if I had lost both of you._

_I know I wasn't a good father, but I hope that you know that I love you. I always have, even if I wasn't very good at showing it. You were a terrific boy and you have grown into an incredible young man. You have made me proud. I know you will be the perfect leader for Academia and do exceptional work in my position._

_Your mother said that there was a bittersweet happiness in writing these letters. It was in the thought that even though we were no longer alive, you were, and we would always be in your heart. Your mother was right, but I think that I can take that a step further. Hope, if you're reading this, then that means that not only are you alive, but that I managed to keep my promise. I made a promise to myself the day that you came out of crystal stasis that as long as I was alive, I wouldn't allow anything to harm you again._

_I'm so sorry that I'm not there to protect you anymore, but know that I am proud of who you are and who you've become, and that I love you deeply._

_-Love always, Dad_

Hope read over the letter, again and again, until his eyes could have bled the contents, instead of his grief. His tears bloated the words on the page, magnifying them in tiny bubbles until they soaked through. Hope clutched at the edges of the letter, held it so tightly that it could have torn. His father wrote him a letter. Hope couldn't believe that his father wrote him a letter and that it took him so long to find it.

Hope loved his father, without question, without condition. He knew his father loved him, but the shock Hope felt as he read such heartfelt words was immeasurable. It was uncharacteristic of his father to express his feelings. Looking down at them now, holding his father's love in his hands, he knew how difficult it must have been for him to write this. In that moment, Hope allowed himself to remember his father, and to grieve completely.

When Hope pulled himself together, rubbing at sore, swollen eyes and laughing at his father's letter that resembled a tear-soaked handkerchief, Hope tucked his father's goodbye back into its envelope, hid it within the picture frame he kept on his desk. It was a picture of his parents, his secret stowaway where he kept his mother's letter as well.

Staring at that picture - Bartholomew holding Nora in his arms, hoisting her up with a face full of excitement, Hope a mere embryo in his mother's womb - Hope felt a stirring in his chest. It willed him out the door, toward the cemetery where his father was buried.

_I'm sorry, Light, but I have to do this._

* * *

Lightning was going to spend her evening the way she spent most of her evenings. With Serah. She would sit at the base of her crystal, inform her of her day, voice her thoughts on what she imagined a day for Serah would have entailed had she not been crystallized. It felt strange talking to her sister that way, as if she were held hostage to Lightning's musings. Lightning knew that Serah would want her to talk to her, and Lightning hated that she hadn't done so when her sister was 'awake' to hear it.

When she was talked out, Lightning sat with her back against Serah, questioning what it was that she was supposed to do next. Sleep? Eat? Perform basic health maintenance? More than that, where was she to go? Who was she to be?

Lightning walked with that question, let it lead her out and around the Academy building. The hustle of society had died down, cars few and civilians fewer. The night was cool, a hushed breeze sifting through leaves, crafting its own windswept song. _Where do I want to go_? Lightning asked herself. _Who do I want to be?_

_"I'm a pilot. I do what pilots do best. I fly."_

Sazh's answer had been so simple. He would retrace old footsteps until the day he would find Dajh's along the way.

And Hope…

_He's become a world leader who quests to free everyone from crystal stasis. Way to set the bar far above the rest of us…_

_"I didn't get to say goodbye. He was just gone. Alive. Dead. As quick and decisive as the flip of a coin."_

Hope's voice intruded into Lightning's thoughts, threw them off track and left them hurtling in another direction. Images of Bartholomew's assassination flashed through her head as she visualized the event. Hope and his father arguing. The guards falling to the ground. Hope's father clutching his chest. The assassin aiming his gun at Hope. Hope huddled over his father's dead body.

Lightning stopped, pinching the bridge of her nose. _I should have been there for him... protected him. I told him that I would keep him safe, but I wasn't there at all. Instead, it was that damned lieutenant._ Lightning felt like she was following the breadcrumbs of Hope's past, constantly stumbling upon intersections with Nivien's trail. It angered Lightning. She didn't like that the woman filled a spot in Hope's life that Lightning never gave up.

_Someone had to be there for him…_

The scent of rust and a metallic creaking sound roused Lightning into discerning her current position. She had walked herself to a park, stood beside a swing-set. Lightning gripped the chain, swayed it back and forth to summon the nostalgic sound of rustling metal. The sound, the smell, the orange streaks on her fingers brought a memory back to Lightning.

_It was just her and Serah. A week had elapsed since the funeral. Times were already growing hard, money scarce and food scarcer. There was a message from Amodar waiting on the answering machine. Changes made Serah clingier. She was obsessed with the park, wanted Lightning to take her. They could run away and live there, Serah decided. Lightning said that was a stupid and impractical idea. But when Serah batted her eyelashes, tears threatening their edges, Lightning caved. They spent that night at the park, challenging each other to see who could swing the highest. Floating up in the air, Serah's laughter in her ears, Lightning found herself enjoying a moment for the first time since her mother's passing._

The wind died down, swings settling, and Lightning tensed, every hair on her body raising at the hint of another presence. Danger edged around her senses, led her hand to her gunblade. The hilt was barely in hand when something sharp grazed her bicep. Lightning winced, watching the projectile to find an icicle before it shattered against the merry-go-round. Lightning spun to face the direction of the icicle's origin. There was no one. No visual or sound gave away her assailant's position. Drawing her gunblade, Lightning cleared her mind, thoughts solely on her surroundings as she opened her senses.

A branch cracked behind her, but before she could turn to face whoever was there, a burst of fire shot up in front of her, setting the grass aflame. The flames encircled Lightning, trapping her. Her attackers crept out from the shadowed brush. There were six of them, all in heavy, black cloaks. Their faces were enshrouded in the darkness of their hoods, but their figures screamed male, strong, warriors. All stayed at a distance from Lightning, with the exception of one.

"There's no need to be alarmed, my friend," a man said as he stepped forward. Their leader, Lightning surmised. His voice was deep, husky. His tone, however, was accommodating, meant as a gesture to soothe Lightning's nerves and lead her to lowering her guard. But he would have to do better than that.

"My bleeding arm and the flames at my feet suggest otherwise."

What were once tall, crackling flames that erected a wall around the soldier began to fade until they hissed their end into the dirt. The leader walked closer. Lightning raised her gunblade above her shoulder, stance ready for a fight.

He bowed low before her. "If we'd truly sought to harm you then you wouldn't be able to threaten us with that blade now, would you?" Lightning made no move. "You're aware of our powers. We have magic on our side." As if to prove this, he snapped a flame into existence atop his thumb, let it dance and sputter. "We want to talk, but we aren't afraid of a fight if one is forced upon us," he said before waving the fire out. "It would be a shame to mark that pretty face of yours."

Lightning counted the heads around her, calculated their positions and the order she would take them out in. She was up against magic, so she needed her timing to be perfect. She was attacked. At night. By herself. By unknown, magic-enhanced persons. If they wanted her to lower her guard, they were doing a piss poor job at convincing her.

She wasn't going to give them a chance to finish what they started.

"Not interested." Lightning leapt at the leader in front of her, swiping her gunblade toward his face. He dodged, jumping back as he sent a burst of air toward her chest. Lightning blocked the aero spell with her gunblade, but the force stole her from her feet. She used the momentum to flip back through the air, shooting at one of the unsuspecting men approaching her side. He fell dead as her boots hit the ground.

Two men came up behind her, arms and hands outstretched, attempting to grab her. She slid easily out from between them, slicing their ankles as she went. They fell to their knees and Lightning sprang up. Dodging a shot of electricity at her side, she stabbed the two in their chests.

This left the leader in front of her with two others at his sides. Confidence electrified her movements, firming her resolve and leading her to resume her previous battle stance. "Now it's obvious that I will harm you and you should be alarmed. Leave now, or you won't live to regret it."

The ground began to shake under her feet, making her lean this way and that, stumbling to catch her balance. The two men took advantage of her disorientation and launched toward her. One grabbed her, his hand hot as lava burning an imprint into Lightning's forearm. Ignoring the flaring pain, Lightning severed his arm from his body before switching into gun mode and shooting him in the face. Lightning pivoted to face the other man, but a surge of electricity shot down her spine. It brought her to her knees, her body twitching in the aftershocks. He advanced on her, grin menacing. Lightning tried to focus her mind away from her screaming body. She thought over the shock and the burns and the pulsing of her heart to thinking of taking the leader's head clean off. The last of the minions grabbed her around the neck. He squeezed, choking her under her wind pipe. Lightning didn't allow herself to feel it, didn't fight him. She let him choke her down to the ground until she was on her knees, giving her a prime opportunity to stab him in the foot. He hollered out in pain until she sliced her blade across his neck. His body collided with the ground as he clutched his throat, spasming as his blood drooled into the grass.

One left.

The leader. He seemed a challenge, his strength apparent, but his skills a mystery. He held the upper hand, body unscathed. "This has become quite a mess. Why couldn't this have been a friendly conversation?"

"You attacked first," Lightning growled.

The man chuckled, clasping his hands together. "True and we may have underestimated you. You may have the makings of a capable guardian after all." He punctuated his sentence with a flurry of ice sent in her direction. Lightning swiped at each icicle, blade slicing through them to leave nothing but shards and snow. She slashed through the last one and was unprepared to find the leader directly in front of her. He seized her throat, lifting her from the ground. Her gunblade began to slip from her grasp as her arms jolted out of reflex, begging her to grab his hands away. But she ignored her collapsing throat to steel her hold on her weapon. Fast as her namesake, she brought her blade up and thrust it down on his hands, cutting them clean off.

He screamed as he fell backwards, his hood falling back. Disgusted, Lightning shook his hands off of her, sneering as they thumped down to her feet. She brought her blade up below the man's chin, his shock fading to outrage as he gritted his teeth. With his face now exposed, she could see the sharpness of his features and flaring green eyes brushed by auburn bangs. "Now," Lightning said, her gunblade still dripping with his blood kissing his neck, "what did you want from me?"

The anger dissipated with unsettling speed, replaced by a sick sort of joy. "You lose, Guardian," he spat.

Digging her blade deeper into his skin, Lightning stepped forward, her boot on his wrist, and watched him writhe and wiggle in pain. "Why are you calling me that? What is it that you want?"

Through the pain, the satisfaction never left his face. "We have what we want... what we need. Do you?"

It hit her. Why they were attacking her. Why they attacked when she was alone. Away from people. Away from the Academy.

Away from Hope.

He laughed, and Lightning knew that the realization had stretched across her face. Rage flowing through her, she swiped her blade across his neck, chopping his head clean off.

Blood sprayed, leaving her a gory mess. Her body was sore, in need of treatment. Hope's safety stampeded forward in her mind, driving her to go, protect, save, but she breathed through her instincts. She wouldn't allow her fears to distract her, only fuel her. Sprinting towards Hope's house, she dialed his number. There was no answer. _Please just be asleep._ She dialed Alyssa quickly, hoping she was still working. Lightning didn't imagine Hope was the only workaholic there.

"Lightning, how may I-"

"Hope. Is he still at his house?"

"Is everything alright, Lightning? You sound-"

"There's no time," Lightning yelled, and that seemed to get the urgency across to Alyssa.

"Let me check."

Running as fast as her feet could carry her, Lightning prayed that she could reach him in time. "Hurry."

"Ummmm... no, he's not."

_Dammit Hope._

"He's at Harleen Cemetery. Do you need me to give you the location?"

"Yes, and send a squad of G.C. Soldiers. He's in danger, Alyssa."

_Maker, please be okay, Hope._

* * *

Hope knelt in front of his father's grave, head hung low, pressing his palm to the stone marker. It registered his presence before a hologram popped, images of Bartholomew, first leader of the Academy, displayed before Hope's eyes. There was a portrait of his father at his desk, the one Hope now sat at. One of Bartholomew leading a Cocoon memorial event. One of Bartholomew and Hope, taken days before the assassination. And one last one of their little family before the fall of Cocoon. Hope thought fondly of his pre-l'Cie days, let the beautiful memories outshine the dark ones.

Hope no longer wept. His eyes couldn't form any more tears, like a faucet run dry. Hope brought his hand up to still the images. He stared at their family portrait for a good, long moment, then waved his hand, turning the pictures like pages until they flipped back to the portrait of his father.

"I'm sorry, dad. Everything I put you through, all the arguments, all the yelling, it wasn't worth it. I would give anything to change that day. I know that it's impossible... I've wished so many times over the years to have mom back, but… it never happened, either. I'm supposed to be a man of science, yet I wish and dream and pray. I just miss you both so much. Thank you for the letter. I know how hard it must have been for you to write it. I love you too, dad."

"It's Hope." Hope's head snapped up at the sound of a voice. "...Right?" There was a woman in front of him, standing behind his father's gravesite. She was a woman in white, glowing ethereally, as if a divine messenger. Hope could have mistaken her for a servant of Etro sent to grant his wish if it weren't for her eyes. They were the eyes of a predator. "Oh, I'm sorry... it's _Director_ _Estheim_ now." There was a threat there, malevolence laced into her tone. She talked to him like she knew him. Casual, as if she could see right through him.

Hope stood slowly, cautiously. Anxiety coursed through his veins, knowing that this was an enemy. An opponent… that he wasn't sure he could beat. "What do you want?" Hope could feel her energy in the air, much like when he was facing a Cie'th's desperation or horror or sorrow. From her, it was pure malice. He couldn't believe how close she was. He allowed her to step right into his circle.

"Isn't it obvious?" The woman raised her hand up in front of her chest, a signal that made Hope reach for his boomerang. It sprang open in his hand just as multiple figures cloaked in black rose out of the darkness, seven that Hope could see. The woman laughed as Hope began to sweat.

"We want you."

* * *

Lightning approached the cemetery. It was grand, acres of stone blocks set into the ground, white, glowing rings illuminating each name. Trees, bushes and statues created blind spots as Lightning tried to map a visual in her mind. Night settled in shadow, but Lightning plunged in half blind, stumbling over uneven terrain. A flashlight would give her presence and position away, painting a target on her chest. Lightning fought the urge to call out Hope's name, wanting so badly to hear his voice. To know that he was okay. Lightning followed Alyssa's information, zooming straight toward Bartholomew's grave. It was a short trip in, but as her heart beat a rhythm in her chest, Lightning felt like her path extended with every step she took.

Lightning was a row away. Closer. Closer. She stopped. There, sitting atop Bartholomew's headstone, laid Hope's communicator. Lightning ran for it, held it in her hand, Hope's warmth left on it like an imprint. _Hope parted with this recently._ Her relief was brief. As soon as her eyes left Hope's comm unit, they met red. There was a splotch of blood on the corner of the headstone, dripping into the grass. Hope's name tore from her lips, stealth be damned.

Lightning swore. She swore and cursed and swore again as she panicked, looking every which way for any other sign or clue.

_Where is he? Where is my back-up? I can't let this-_

Lightning came upon another sign of Hope, an indicator of a confrontation. Hope's boomerang was stuck in the trunk of a tree. Upon closer examination, Lightning could see that Hope hit something. "Someone," Lightning found herself amending as her fingers tore free a ripped piece of black fabric. "A cloak," Lightning croaked.

As she heard the sound of the incoming G.C. Soldiers, she fell to her knees, unsure of how to continue. She swore she'd protect him. She swore she'd keep him safe.

_Hope is gone. I left him alone._

_Again._


	8. Captive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fate is sealed, orders are disregarded, and the consequences of a decision may prove fatal.

Hope didn't know which was worse. The persistent knocking against his skull, or the sinking feeling in his gut. His reflex was to hold his head, feel it, protect it, but as he raised his hand it was jerked to a stop. Something prevented his arms from moving, holding them down. Not just his arms. His legs, too. Hope's eyes shot open, arms and legs tugging against binds that allowed him little movement. He felt like a fly trapped in a web, small, afraid, struggling to get free before the spider could devour him.

He was stuck. Imprisoned. Strapped to a stone table. In the middle of a dark, foul smelling chamber.

Hope's breathing trembled passed his lips. He couldn't remember what happened. He couldn't remember how he got here. Where was here? His memory was shot full of holes, spotted like his vision. Gathering his wits, Hope rewound his mind. He was with Lightning. She was assisting him. She made him go home. Why? He was crying. He was telling Lightning about… his father's death. He found the letter, went to the cemetery.

That woman.

_"We want you."_

Hope chuckled darkly. _I've been kidnapped._ The thought was far from funny. What was humorous about the situation was that he brought it on himself. He left his house without informing anyone. He didn't take his guards. 

It was his fault.

Hope shook off the self-blame. He needed to get a handle on the situation, figure out his location, the identity of his attackers, the motive of their actions, and try to free himself. Rygdea had trained him for this, after the threatening letters began to stream in. He would make the man proud.

Hope struggled against his binds, hissing as the friction of the leather straps burned into his skin. Every twist and turn shredded his skin until his wrists were red and stinging. Aborting his futile attempt to release his binds, Hope took stock of himself. His head was throbbing, his wrists and ankles were sore enough to bleed, but otherwise he hadn't been harmed. He could feel the cold, damp air pebbling the skin of his chest, arms and feet. He'd been disrobed of most of his clothes, left with only his pants and boxers. Hope felt against his pockets, stretching his fingers to pat along the seams.

_Was it naïve of me to think that my comm could still be on me?_

Hope scanned the room, wondering what kind of dungeon he'd been brought to. There were no windows, mere torches left to light a bare, stone room. It was devoid of charm, bitterly cold, and stank most terribly. Hope didn't recognize the odor, trying not to inhale through his nostrils. Hope turned his head to find smears of blood beneath his body. He shuffled as far to the side as he could against his binds. He couldn't get away from it. It surrounded him in dried smears and spots and pools that flaked off against his skin. It wasn't Hope's, though he found himself wishing that it was. _Someone else was kept here? What happened to them?_ It wasn't just blood, but chunks of-

Hope's blood froze as he caught site of a neighboring table. On it was another person, a woman strapped down like Hope. She looked terrible, blackened filth coating her skin. Her hair was a disheveled mane of green, matted and clumped with bits of color that looked like beads. Her face was hidden within the straggles of hair. Her clothes were shredded into tatters, and Hope kept his eyes from falling onto any personal areas that were left exposed. There was blood and flecks of flesh on the table beneath her, stained into her clothes, her skin. There was a remarkable amount of blood for a woman who looked to have no injuries. None that he could see. Of course, she could have been brought there like Hope, having yet awoken, but he doubted it. Hope watched the steady motion of her chest, grateful that she was alive.

That he wasn't alone.

_Who is she? What did she do to deserve this? No... No one deserves this, but... wait… her clothes… Another Pulsian? She looks like she's been held in captivity for a long, long time just like… Does she have something to do with Yeul?_

Hope's eyes narrowed as they caught sight of what laid beneath the grime on her body. Faded, black tattoos climbed up her exposed skin like vines. Something seemed odd about them, almost like they branched from deep beneath her skin.

_Those… those are her veins._

Hope stared in horror as he trailed their path with his eyes, every vein beneath her pale skin appearing ink-stained. _Is she sick? Did they inject her with something? Feed it to her?_ Hope eyed his own arms, his body sinking in relief as he found them to be the same bluish-green as they ever were.

The knocking in Hope's skull intensified. He groaned, then winced at the dryness of his throat. Instead of drowning in his rampaging sea of thoughts, he thought to try and wake the girl beside him. "Hey. Hey, can you hear me?" Hope's voice was hoarse, scratchy. He tried to swallow, but it only worsened the pain. _How long was I unconscious?_

The woman didn't stir to his calls, and Hope found himself struggling against the straps again. He had nothing else to do. Nothing to fight with. Nothing to count on.

A tiny, younger Hope deep inside of him said that Lightning would come for him. She would protect him. But Hope smacked his younger self back down. He didn't need her protection. He was supposed to be older now. Smarter, stronger, and holding enough power to protect her.

"Anyone awake down there?" called a voice. It echoed down into the room and Hope twisted his neck to see the entrance. Covered in dark shadow was a stairwell with a woman descending its steps.

_It's her!_

The woman from the cemetery entered, her eyes alight as she looked at Hope. "Ah, so we are. How are we?"

Hope tensed, every muscle in his body twitching to move, fight, flee. He couldn't. "What… do you want… with me?" All he could do was try to gather information that may become useful for negotiation, or an escape.

She smiled as her slate-colored irises ran over the length of his body. She pressed her hand against his chest, as if petting him. Hope jolted at the touch, causing her devilish smile to grow. "As much as I love abducting pretty-boy egg-heads, I want nothing to do with you. You are a well-known, important person in your world. Taking you caused us a lot of trouble and keeping you will only cause us more. Hopefully," she stopped, smiling and shaking her head, "it will be worth it."

"If I'm such trouble then why did you take me? 'Worth' what? Wha-"

"Calm down. No need to get excited." The woman brought her fingertips to his forehead, pressing gently. Hope clenched his teeth, jerking his head away from her. A flicker of agitation passed through her eyes and Hope felt that earlier malice waft off of her again. He shrunk back against the stone, regret rendering him still. Petrified. She grabbed his chin, forcing him to face her. If she wanted to touch him, she was going to. He could read it in her eyes. She held complete control.

Once satisfied, she let go, brushing her fingers lightly over the swelling of his face and then over the discolored splotches on his chest, bruises undoubtedly caused by Lightning's fit of frustration. Hope wanted desperately to escape the woman's touch. The minute her cold, bony fingers found his skin, he felt angry, trapped, sick enough to puke. He didn't consent to this. He didn't consent to any of this. Being prodded like a patient on a gurney. Being inspected like he was prime meat.

Being held against his will.

A thin, white eyebrow arched as she continued perusing his injuries. "It would seem that your guardian finds more pleasure in harming you, than protecting you."

_Guardian? I have no guardian. My father is dead._

… _Does she mean Light?_

"Oh, quiet now, are we? You have no more questions for me?" She stood back up, and Hope breathed a little easier as she walked away from him. "Too bad. I was entertaining the idea of answering some." Her grin curled with a wicked edge, and Hope wondered if this was a game to the woman. She certainly seemed to be enjoying herself, toying with Hope in his vulnerable position.

Hope's questions were innumerable, but under that penetrative stare his mouth couldn't form one. He didn't understand why. It was like this woman was capable of paralyzing him down to his soul. She scared him. _She shouldn't_ , Hope chastised himself. She was just another human being. Hope fought monsters, giants, the mini gods that were fal'Cie. Humans could be cruel and evil creatures, but they could be understood, reasoned with. And in the end, they were mortal.

Hope allowed himself to stare back into the woman's eyes. He didn't know if he would believe a word she had to say. Her actions and words were contradictory. She kidnapped him, but didn't really want him. She had him strapped to a table, but seemed concerned about his injuries. She was holding him captive, but 'entertained' the idea of answering his questions.

In the end, Hope went with his most basic inquiry. "Who are you?"

She seemed to ponder his question as she walked her way over to a wooden chair. She picked it up and placed it beside him, seating herself upon it with masterful, unexpected grace. Her creepy smile dropped, face neutral. "My name is Castea Hidon."

Dread whispered its breath across Hope's skin, sunk its teeth into his flesh. He had a name and a face to identify his abductor. That didn't lend hope toward an eventual release.

_Please. Let it be a lie._

"Are you the..." Hope swallowed against the lump of despair in his throat, "Who's in charge here?"

"You're talking to her."

"What is your objective? Your goal? What do you plan to do with me in order to achieve it?"

Her eyebrows rose, her smile stretching across her face. "Finally, the good part. I imagine you received our present?"

"Present?"

"Yeul." She deepened her gaze as Hope felt his body sag. She confirmed his suspicions. Yeul had been here. And the other woman was- "You had to have figured it out by now that we were the ones," her voice became mockingly sad, grief-stricken, "who did all of those _horrible_ and _monstrous_ things to her. Same as with that one," she added, pointing to the woman beside him. "And you know what? We're going to do all of those _nasty_ things to you as well."

Hope could feel the blood caked on the table, itching against his skin.

Yeul. It was Yeul's blood.

It would soon be his own.

"Why?" Hope croaked.

"Because it is our duty. We were called upon to use the great power inside of us to help you fulfill your destiny."

"Your duty? Someone told you to- You're l'Cie." Castea nodded, turning her body so Hope could see the seal that branded the back of her neck. "Your focus is to capture and hurt me, this woman, and that girl?" Hope shot her a look of disgust, his loathing conquering his fear. Castea's smile shrunk. "Why? What does a monstrous focus like that accomplish?"

"Tsk. Tsk. I would watch your tone, boy."

"Just let me go. Please, I won't-"

"Won't what?" she asked, his pleas only serving to amuse her. "Is this about the time where you start begging? Bargaining for your life? Don't worry, we won't kill you." She walked back over to Hope, leaning over his body, her face inches above his. She ran her hands through his hair, excitement lightening the storm clouds in her eyes. Hope sank back into the table, nowhere left to move. She was close. Too close. "But soon enough, you'll wish that we had."

His eyes snapped up to hers, and through her gray gaze, he could see her honesty, brutal and pitiless. He wasn't sure about the rest of her claims, but in this there was no lie. No matter how much he wished for falsehoods, between that demonic look in her eyes and what he knew of Yeul's torture, there was no chance. He was going to feel every ounce of that statement.

Hope felt an emotion creep into him, deep into him, that he hadn't felt in a long while. He felt terror. A profound, bone-chilling terror set into his veins. It was that sense of doom that Hope remembered, a clock ticking against him, pulsing with his heart. Except Hope could do nothing with the desperation this threat ignited. He couldn't fight or run or depend on the powers of his teammates. The peril of his battle with Alexander seemed microscopic in comparison.

Castea straightened her posture. With a flick of her wrist, a soothing warmth washed over him. It stole the knocking from his brain, the ache from his chest. Hope looked down at himself, watched the welts from Lightning's knuckles vanish.

_Why is she healing me?_

A sound distracted him. Heavy footsteps descended the stairs. A large, robed man trudged his way toward Castea. Hope felt ice cold sweat tingle at the back of his neck as he wondered if this was one of the people that had attacked him at the cemetery.

"Lady Hidon," the man addressed Castea with a bow. "Barsilisk wishes to speak with you." His voice was quiet, subservient, but there was something in the way he observed Castea. He looked at her the way Alyssa looked at Hope. With reverence and adoration.

"Honestly," Castea said, voice heaped high with exasperation, "that man can't manage a thing by himself. Deal with them, Sebastian. Especially the girl."

Left with this new man, a person whose brutish stature dwarfed Snow's, panic seized Hope's chest, made him struggle and struggle and struggle. He didn't wish to be 'dealt with' in any manner.

"Do not fret, you're safe," the man said, and Hope stopped. Sebastian's expression didn't change from the stern look he'd entered with, but his voice held traces of amusement. "I was ordered to leave you alone, for now."

 _For now_ , Hope's mind echoed. "You work for," Hope's voice stuck, caught like a fishing line hooked onto a boulder, "Castea? Are you a l'Cie too?"

"I think you've asked enough questions for one day, little Director." Sebastian dismissed Hope's presence. He turned his focus toward Hope's unknown companion. Sweeping her hair from her face, Sebastian did a visual check over her unconscious body with a combing, meticulous eye like Hope had seen from the medics he'd worked with. Sebastian held her chin in his hand, turned her face toward him and Hope could still feel Castea's claws digging into his mandible. The woman's face was long with a sharp nose, pronounced chin, and dirt smeared over every inch of it. The veins visible in her neck, forehead, even the small ones spreading from her temples, were black. "This one's a stubborn whore. She should know her place." He let go of her face, her head colliding back to the table with a thump.

Then, Sebastian was looking at Hope. Hope watched his approach, hands fisting in their binds. The man towered over him, eyes too dark beneath his brow to discern intent. His neck was thick, but it was the scar on his throat that drew Hope's eye. A white line like thick rope circled around his neck.

"Just let me go, please," Hope found his words tumbling from the vomit sloshing in his stomach. 'I didn't do anything to you, or your… master. I don't even understand why I'm here."

"You will… in due time."

Hope bit down on his cheek, sniffing back any emotions threatening to spill forth. "Fine, but let her go. You have me. Who you wanted. Why do you have to harm her?"

Sebastian's face split with a grin. "Compassion for a woman you don't even know. You want me to let her go when you haven't even spoken with her. Too priceless." He laughed, mocking Hope's empathetic plea. "She has a purpose here, same as you." Sebastian leaned on Hope's table, hands gripping the edge near his arm. There were matching scars around Sebastian's wrists, the skin crudely spun together like a licorice twist. Sebastian looked down at his own hands, holding up his arms. "Courtesy of your guardian. She put up a fight. One I didn't expect."

 _A guardian._ Castea spoke of a guardian when tending to his wounds inflicted by Lightning. Was that what everyone here called her? His guardian? "You mean Lightning?" Hope stared at the scars, imagining one of Lightning's swift strikes. If she left him with wounds like those scars suggested, l'Cie magic shouldn't have been enough to keep him alive.

Sebastian cuffed his left wrist, rubbing with a grimace. "Yes, the beauty with the petal pink hair and rose colored lips. I didn't expect someone so gorgeous to be so deadly."

Hope grit his teeth, lips peeling back in a feral instinct to protect. "I swear if you hurt her-"

"She fought well. It was fun while it lasted. I achieved my goal. The threat of the guardian was eliminated so we were able to collect you without too much of a fuss."

 _Eliminated?_ "No, Maker, no," Hope whispered beneath his breath. Not even the gods were able to kill Lightning. He couldn't believe it. He wouldn't.

"Don't listen to this fool." The woman beside him spoke as she stirred. Her head drooped to the side to face Hope. Her eyes were like defiant flames, ignited with a brilliant, furious green. "He's just a lackey trying to break you for his boss."

"What did you say, you heathen woman?" Sebastian stomped over to her, backhanding her across her face with a hit so strong that the smack resounded off of the chamber walls. "I am no lackey." She breathed in rough pants before spitting blood into his face. The splatter was as black as her veins suggested. Sebastian landed a retaliatory punch to her face.

Hope cringed at the crunch. Sebastian's arm drew back for another blow, stirring Hope into action. "Don't! She stopped. She's out cold. You don't-" Hope was silenced by the man's withering stare.

Sebastian undid the woman's bindings and tossed her over his shoulder, leaving the room as silent as when Hope awoke.

Hope's head fell back to the table, his breaths coming in short, stuttered wheezes as he fought off his panic.

_He… eliminated Lightning?_

_No, she's strong. Too strong. She couldn't have been... eliminated. She was right. He was just lying. But those marks looked like they'd come from a gunblade. If he faced off against Light, there's no way she would have left him alive... unless..._

"As I was saying," Hope jolted as he found Sebastian standing in front of his table, "that guardian of yours was a real beaut. A damn fine warrior. Shame, really. I would have loved to have spent more time with her."

"You're lying," Hope fought forward, tugging himself toward Sebastian. He didn't care about the way his binds burned into his wrists and ankles, his anger reached far over the pain.

Sebastian laughed at Hope's struggle. "She would have been much more fun than that little seeress." He reached into the sleeve of his robes to pull a long knife free, its serrated teeth flashing in the light. Hope's cold sweat returned, icicles prickling down his back. "I'm sure you saw my masterpiece. Sadly, you only got to see half of it. We had to heal her more serious injuries so she could make it to ya." He ran his finger along the edge of the blade, grinning as blood dribbled free.

"You're sick," Hope spat. _It sounds like he was... is taken with Light._

_He's the one that hurt Yeul._

_He would have done those things…_

_Maker... Why?_

The man's smile dropped as he looked at Hope. His expression twisted into something Hope recognized too well.

Hatred.

A current of electricity sparked between Sebastian's fingertips. It was the last thing Hope saw, the last thing he felt as his nerves were fried.

Before the blackness took him.

* * *

Bright lights greeted Lightning as she stirred. A fluorescent bulb blinked above her.

Blink.

Blink, blink, blink.

Blink.

Lightning sat herself up, glaring at the flickering light, and the bed she was in, and the monitor she was hooked to. "A hospital. Great. I hate hospitals." The sterile lighting. The smell of disinfectant wafting over the odor of bodily fluids. Overworked nurses with faces full of pity. Buttons and monitors and doors she didn't understand. Lightning went through great pains to keep herself in good health to avoid places like this.

_I need to get out of here._

Lightning moved to peel one monitor off of her arm, but stopped at the sharp sting the movement caused in her hand. She stretched out her hand, confused by the bandages wrapped around her palm. She didn't remember hurting herself there. "Wait. Why am I…?" The bulb above her went dark, and in its flash of light she remembered.

Hope was taken. She needed to find him.

_Hope fought them. Left a clue and his phone. No, his phone was sitting out in plain sight. They wanted us to track it, to find out that they had him. The blood… Did Hope catch a chunk of his assailant? Or… was it Hope's blood? Did they hurt him? Is he- No, they wanted him alive. You don't kidnap a dead body, right?_

_Right?_

Lightning curled herself up, her hand over her heart. There was something there, somewhere inside of her chest, a feeling like the bond with Odin. It was Hope. She could see his smile in her mind, feel the warmth of his embrace, the drumming of his heart.

He was alive. She could feel it.

"Lightning, you're awake. How's our favorite soldier?" Sazh had a smile on his face, but it was worn out, stretched thin.

"Did you find him?"

Sazh stopped at the foot of her bed, gripped the end of it with shaking hands. "Not a sight."

Lightning expected the answer, but she didn't expect it to hit her with a lash of anger. Throwing the covers off of herself, she ripped the monitors from her skin, yanking her bag of personal items from beneath the bed before Sazh could try and stop her. "We have to find him."

"Lightning-"

"Dammit. Don't," Lightning warned as Sazh bent to touch her. "Don't. The longer we stand here, the farther he gets. You know that." Lightning peeled open the bag to pull out her boots and tug them back on. She was still in her uniform, but her gunblade was nowhere. Lightning gave a knowing look toward Sazh to find her gunblade tucked against his side.

"Do you even know how you got here?"

"It doesn't matter. Now give me my weapon." She reached toward him, but Sazh stepped out of reach.

"Stop. I just got back from my flight, I've had zero sleep, I'm old, and in no mood to be chasin' after your rampagin' ass." His tone was stern, his fatherly 'laying down the law' voice peacocking proud.

Lightning didn't want it. She didn't need Sazh to act fatherly right now. She didn't need someone to tell her what to do. "Hope is gone and we need to find him!" she yelled. "If you want to take a nap while he's Maker knows where, go ahead. I'm not going to sit here and wait until he turns up-"

Sazh stopped her, his hands on her biceps, holding her in place. Lightning's rage built. She was ready to take her gunblade off of him, give him a fight if she had to. Until he looked at her. He stopped talking, stopped moving and _looked_ at her.

She could see Sazh's pain. Hope wasn't just her own loss. He was Sazh's, too. Two years. Sazh had been awake for two years. He had his chocobo. And he had Hope.

Lightning clicked her tongue and sat back down on her bed. She gave him her full attention. For now.

"There is a search team covering Academia and three teams covering Pulse. Hildough and a few GC guards are headed to Sanctum City to check there."

"It's not enough. I have to-"

"Calm down, that's all ya gotta do," came a voice from the doorway. Sazh sidestepped out of the way, revealing Rygdea with that cocksure cowboy twinkle in his eye. He still held the rank of captain and his long ponytail now swished behind his legs. "We need you calm, Lightning, so you can tell us what happened."

"I suppose I should say that it's good to see you."

"No need to sugarcoat it, darlin'. You thought I croaked with the rest of my crew back there. Sorry to disappoint. Just a remnant of dark days now."

Lightning crossed her arms, jutting out her chin as she sat back. "I take it you didn't find any of his attackers?"

"No, the G.C. found nothing other than Hope's boomerang with a piece of cloth and the blood on Bartholomew's headstone."

Lightning bit a snarling remark back, her teeth near chewing through her lip. A whole army couldn't find one man. Hope wasn't a l'Cie menace anymore. He was Director of the Academy. Leader of Academia. Wasn't he important enough?

Rygdea wrung his gloved hands, the fabric crunching in the quiet. "Look, I know you're hurting, but-"

"Please, if you cared half as much as I do, we wouldn't still be sitting here."

"Hey, missy, I love that kid like a son." Rygdea's eyes flared with more emotion than Lightning would have given him credit for. "You were a crystal. Remember that? I watched out for Hope. I trained him. Bartholomew and I-" Rygdea walked his anger into the floor, body stiff with the stress of regret. Lightning could feel it, too. Like a knot between her shoulders, remorse in the movement of her joints. "I thought losing Cid was hard. I promised Bartholomew that I would take care of Hope. I won't lose him, too."

"I guess we both have promises to keep then," Lightning said, letting her self-righteous anger abate. "Someone want to tell me how I got in this bed?"

Sazh glanced at Rygdea, then sat himself down in a chair, hesitancy in his voice. "After they... When the Guardian Corps soldiers found ya… You told 'em about bein' attacked in the park, but..." Sazh ran his hand over his face, fingers stretching his lip.

"They found nothing," Rygdea finished, fanning off Lightning's increasing impatience. "There was no trace of anything at that park. No bodies, no blood... not even a scorch mark."

"But that's impossible! I took out six of them. They were wearing the same hooded robe-clothing _things_ as Hope's boomerang caught." Lightning couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe that they couldn't believe it. There was doubt in Rygdea's eyes. Lightning turned to Sazh, but he was too busy watching Lightning's weapon, like she was going to nab it and run off. "Why am I here? I don't remember anything after the graveyard and somebody better tell me why."

Rygdea's comm went off then. A perfect distraction to take the traitor away. Lightning wasn't sure why his disbelief hurt her so much. She didn't know Rygdea and he didn't know her.

Their only link was Hope.

And a messed up, tangled past.

"You had to be..." Sazh said, his boot clacking against the chair leg as he shifted, "sedated."

"Why?!"

"The soldiers who found ya said you were screamin' for Hope and you wouldn't settle down. You had injuries that needed tended to, but you wouldn't let anyone touch ya. You tried to leave to find him..." Sazh was looking at her again, but there were searchlights in his eyes this time, like he was trying to find something in her. Cutting something out to peek at through a microscope. His gaze dropped after a lapsed pause. "They were trying to help you and understand you... You wouldn't listen. You punched one of them in the jaw," Sazh laughed, but then his smile turned grim. "You were holdin' Hope's comm so tight that it broke in your hand. The glass cut into your skin. You were bleeding, fighting, so they…"

"Drugged me." Lightning slid herself back down to the bed, shoved her pillow over her face. She panicked. Hope went missing and the trained soldier panicked. She had no right to question Sazh's or Rygdea's priorities when she had to be put to sleep like a rabid beast.

"We'll find him, Lightning. He couldn't have gotten far without his soldier girl."

Lightning didn't have the energy to hit him.

There was a knock. Lightning plopped the pillow down onto her lap, looked toward the door to see Rygdea reenter. He looked old. Lightning wasn't sure six years could age a man as much as one phone call had aged him.

"That was the Academy lab. They ran a test on the blood from Bartholomew's headstone."

"And?" Lightning urged as the silence stretched.

"It was Hope's."

* * *

Stone walls. That was the life that Hope knew now. Stone walls. Stone floors. Impenetrable stone ceilings. Stone, and darkness. When not strapped to a stone table in the stone dungeon, he was brought here, to another stone room that was steeped in shadow. No windows. No light. There was a mattress on the ground. It smelled of mold and mildew, broken springs jutting out from the sides. A bucket was left to the side, for lavatory purposes, Hope assumed.

Hope sat in the corner, his knees to his chest, staring at the door and praying that it would never open. If it never opened, he wouldn't have to go back. The woman's screams echoed throughout the place. Hope could hear her, muffled and distant, but there. He didn't know what they were doing to her, but he had a pretty good idea. His limbs still shook, muscles twitching with the volts of electricity that surged through his veins. He'd been healed of the pain, but his body still trembled involuntarily.

A tray of food had been slipped in, but Hope didn't trust it. His throat burned enough that it felt like raw hamburger, and his stomach twisted at the thought of consuming anything anyway. He drank the water, spilling most onto the floor as he tried to hold the cup between shaking hands.

The woman's cries intensified, agonized shrieks that ached in Hope's ears. He clamped his hands over his ears, thought over the sounds. He didn't think about his cell or the table or the pain. He didn't think about the fear, the anger or his disbelief towards the events happening to him. He tried to think of home. His desk stacked with days' worth of work waiting for him, Alyssa always there to stimulate him into action in the early hours. The workroom where Maqui was banging around on one thing or another, his face coated in black around his token goggles. The field simulator where Rygdea would kick the crap out of him and tell him to toughen up. The hangar where he could find Sazh, yellow feathers staticked to his coat from visiting the chocobo. Lebreau's café where he would be forced into dinners with his crazy, intrusive friends. The stasis room where-

_No, Lightning is awake now…_

He used to spend hours in the stasis room, crammed in with his crystallized family. He would sit in there and work on projects, do his homework, hide from the world. Staring up at them, at Lightning, gave him strength, empowered him to keep pushing himself. Now she was awake. She was by his side. And he screwed it up.

 _Lightning has to be okay. They wanted me. There would have been no reason to kill her, she wasn't anywhere near me._ Hope nodded back to himself, like he believed. Like there wasn't still a niggling thought burrowing into his mind.

That Lightning was gone. That she wasn't coming back.

_Okay. They are l'Cie. These… people are responsible for Yeul's death. Yeul was sent to us. A present. But why? What were we supposed to find? Was I supposed to predict that this would happen? Was I supposed to know that they would come for me? Could I have prevented this?_

" _Only through his suffering, can humanity prevail?"_

_If Yeul was talking about me, then what does that mean? How does all of this help humanity prevail? Augh! I'm thinking in circles._

_Castea Hidon… I've never heard the name. It doesn't sound Pulsian. All of the tribes and natives are gone. Except… if Yeul and that woman were still traipsing Pulse then I guess she could have been too. But why come after me? What makes them think that I'm special? Their focus? Did it show me? Was I… Am I the target of their fal'Cie?_

_What does that woman have to do with this?_

Hope could still hear her. Her agony, her desperation. Even after all of that, after enduring this torture for who knows how long she defied Sebastian. She didn't beg, she didn't quiver, she spat in his face. That woman was a fighter. She had a strength Hope could only envy. It roused a will in Hope, made him not want to give up.

At the very least, he always had hope.

_I'll make it home. I'll fight._

The door to his cell slammed open. Hope stayed balled up in the corner, mind searching for any exit, any method of escape. Nothing came. Another black robe was there for him, pulled Hope up roughly by the ends of his hair. They yanked Hope's head back, craning his neck at an angle that nearly stole him from his feet. Hope expected it to be Sebastian, but it wasn't. It was a woman, just as muscular and unpleasant as the rest of them.

She slammed Hope against the wall. He could feel something snap, his bones twig-brittle in the hands of Castea's men. "Try anything and I won't be afraid to break a few of your bones."

Hope grunted, holding his shoulder as he slid back to the floor. He stared at the open door, seeing the lights running through the walls. It seemed the rest of the place wasn't as archaic as his room suggested. Hope wondered if he could make it. If he could drop, roll right under the woman's stocky frame and book it from there. Maybe he could follow the lights out. Maybe he could make it.

He needed to wait. An opportunity would present itself. Or he would craft an opportunity with his own hands. One way or another, he would get out.

Hope acted like a good little prisoner, let the woman manhandle him with pure boredom in her features. She handled him like a chore. As if Hope was a leaf that she had to rake away or a pest needing exterminated. "Good. A scrawny kid like you wouldn't last long against me." She pulled a bag from her robe, shoved it onto Hope's head. He swallowed his yelp as she jostled him by his wounded shoulder. He was pulled along, feet tripping beneath him as he couldn't see. He tried to memorize the route, every turn, each stair, his hand feeling along the wall to catch any anomaly. They could take his sight, but his brain never stopped running. Two right turns, a left, down a flight of stairs and they were there.

As they approached, the screams were replaced by heaving breaths. He could see nothing through the bag on his head, but he knew where he was. The woman pushed him into a stone table before slamming his head down onto it. His vision blackened, and it felt like his brain was on the fritz. His consciousness flashed on and off like the screen of an infected computer. Hope fell to the floor, his arms skidding against the stone as he protected his head. His stomach heaved, but he had nothing of substance left to vomit up. Vile stomach acid splattered the inside of the bag, dripping back onto his face.

Hope could hear Sebastian's laughter in the back of his head. It made him angry, made him want to play piñata with Sebastian when he was too blind to defend himself. But Hope couldn't do anything as the boot of a shoe met his collar bone. Hope choked up more acid, breaths screeching in as he curled himself small.

"Stop it!" Hope could hear her, the Pulsian prisoner. She was trying to defend him. Hope didn't understand. Her speech was sloppy, dazed from pain and rough from screaming, but she made sense. "You… wou-wouldn't want to-to kill him now, would you? Th-That would… kind of…fuck up you…your focus, wouldn't it?" There was the whip of a smack and an answering yelp before she went quiet.

"Keep your whore mouth shut," Sebastian said.

Hope's arm was grabbed before he was yanked up and tossed onto the table like a sack of potatoes. It blew the air out of him. Hope's head lolled to the side as he was strapped back into place and the bag was ripped from his head. Hope saw a flicker of fire, light stretching through darkness, then he was out.

* * *

Hope groaned as he woke. His body ached. It smelled like the inside of a trash can. Hope attempted to move and was unsurprised to find himself held in place. He felt like a toy, imprisoned in a dark box, rendered immobile by twist ties, bent and moved and contorted by the will of his master.

Hope lolled his head over to the other side, gasped at the woman beside him.

She was covered in dark, vicious bruises. Cuts zigzagged across her skin. Her right eye was swollen, protruding from her face, eyelid shut around it like a scaly, black clam. Her bottom lip was split in two. The fingers that he could see were bent backwards, stuck up in the air at near ninety degree angles. Hand prints were burned into her neck, skin left pink and black and raw. Blood dribbled from her lips as she tried to say something.

"Don't talk," Hope whispered, grimacing as the severed muscle in her lip could only lift one side. He didn't want to look at her. At least with Yeul Hope could hide the horror away, shut the cover and push her into a drawer.

She kept trying to speak until she began to glow. A green energy hovered over her body and quietly sank in. A cure spell. The skin of her cuts weaved back together. The swelling of the bruises healed, her natural skin color returning. Her eye socket receded back into her face, eyelid contracting with it. There was an awful popping noise as her fingers realigned. And then she looked normal again.

_Hey, the black is gone…_

The black blood that she'd spat out before. The black that climbed up her veins. It was gone.

Hope searched the room, found no one. No sign of her healer. Did they not need to be in the same room to cast magic?

"You would be Hope," the woman asked, testing the movement of her lips before giving him a careful smile, "right?"

Hope felt his laughter die somewhere beneath his ribs. "Everyone seems to know my name."

Her smile shifted into a pitiful scrunch. "I'm Zalera. I'd say it's nice to meet you, but I was hoping they wouldn't get a hold of you."

"You knew they were after me?"

"Yes, almost since they first caught us." Her gaze travelled to the side, her expression hollowing as her fists clenched.

Hope thought about the girl, so young, so broken, laying in front of Lightning. An existence Hope would never get to know. "Yeul? You knew her?"

Zalera gasped in a breath. She looked up, blinking back tears. "Yes," she sniffed. "I was supposed to protect her… and I… failed her instead."

"You're her guardian," Hope said aloud as he fit the pieces together.

Zalera laughed a bitter, miserable laugh. "Was. I _was_ her guardian."

"But you're a l'Cie. How come you can't-"

"Nope." Her lips popped the sound. Her face was masked in a grim look of defeat, a stark contrast to the defiance she'd shown before. "I am not and never was a l'Cie."

That didn't match the scripture he'd read through about the Farseer tribe. All of his reference material mentioning Yeul's guardian stated that they were a l'Cie. A person that lived a timeless existence, watching over every Yeul to come. _Which would make sense with what it could take to guard such a powerful being._ Glancing at Zalera, Hope took notice of how her body shook. From the pain, from the cold, the grief. It could have been any of them. Or all at once.

"Are you okay?" Hope asked as he tamped down on his curiosity toward her origin.

Zalera glanced over at him, brow yielding to her confusion. The confusion disintegrated as quickly as it formed, warbling into remorse. "I'm sorry."

_An apology? For what?_

"Why-"

"How are my guests today?"

Castea descended down the stairs after her question. Zalera's glare was deadly, as potent as Lightning's. "Why don't you untie me and I'll let you know _exactly_ how I am."

Castea glanced in her direction, unimpressed. A bubble formed around Zalera's head. It was filled with water, drowning the girl as she struggled for air. Zalera writhed on the table, slamming her head back onto the stone over and over. The bubble didn't pop. She was screaming, but Hope couldn't hear anything but the thumping of her body. The last tiny air bubble surfaced from her mouth, and Zalera's body began to seize.

The bubble popped. Water splashed down onto the table, dribbling into a puddle on the floor. Zalera coughed up mouthfuls of water, chest heaving.

Hope was left stunned. Castea didn't have to lift a finger to take Zalera's life. Hope remembered how powerful he felt after training his l'Cie powers on Pulse. Castea, though, was on a whole other level.

"It's a shame," Castea said. "I thought your time down here would have taught you how to be a lady. I guess Yeul's death wasn't enough of a lesson."

"Don't you dare say her name," Zalera seethed, wrenching herself against her binds, "you murderous wretch."

"And how are you, my pet?" Castea turned to Hope, sliding a hand along the edge of his table.

"I've… been better."

She hummed as her eyes swept over his body. "I thought you might have some last questions for me. I would get them out of the way now, considering how your condition may impact your state of mind for the rest of your stay. I've found that it's hard to process and absorb information when your mind is being clouded by pain."

She gestured toward Hope, but he couldn't speak. His mind reeled at the thought of more pain. He didn't think he could handle anything more. Hope looked at Zalera, imagined the wounds she had sustained as if they were his own. The slicing of skin. Snapping of bones. No. He couldn't handle any of that.

Her hands fell to his hair, fiddling with the ends. Hope shied away from the touch. "No? I'll just talk then."

"Maybe we don't want to listen," snapped Zalera, practically foaming at the mouth.

Castea lifted her hand from Hope's head. Hope didn't want to know what she was going to do. More drowning. Electrocution that would fry Zalera in her waterlogged state. "No," Hope spoke up, waiting until Castea's hand settled back to nest in his hair, "I-I want to hear what she has to say."

Zalera cried out in frustration, slamming her limbs back down before sagging. Her hair fanned out from her face in wet tendrils.

Castea made a satisfied noise. He could feel her tickling through his hair. He hated her touch, growing more revolted as each second ticked by. Hope kept telling himself to endure. Castea had a big mouth and Hope was going to use that to his advantage. "First of all… I want to know, why me? Why am I so important to you?"

"We've been protecting you for a long time, Hope. That assassination attempt, I'm sure you remember it." His body stiffened and her hands unfurled themselves from his hair. She walked over to the unoccupied table at his right, hefting herself up to sit in one smooth move. "It must have been painful for you. I'm sorry we couldn't have been there in time to save your father." Hope bit his tongue, trying not to bark and scream at the witch of a woman. He couldn't listen to this. He couldn't stand her faux apologies and her fake, _fake_ sympathy.

"We were almost too late to save you. But the other times..."

Hope settled, his confusion coiling around his anger. "What other times?" Hope tentatively asked.

"We managed to eliminate the other threats. There were four other attempts, just so you know." She raised four of her fingers, flashed them at him like a winning hand. "You're not very popular over at the Sanctum. You should show us some gratitude."

Zalera scoffed. "Whoopee, you kept him alive so he could end up in your basement while you get off on his torture."

"We do what's necessary for the future," Castea insisted. "Keeping you safe was a top priority."

"Why?" Hope asked. "What does this have to do with the future?"

Castea's brow twitched. "You have no idea how important you are. You are potentially the most powerful human on this planet. I would kill for that power."

"You're a l'Cie, and a strong one at that. Why can't-"

"As much as I despise it and loathe you for it," Castea grit her teeth. Hope wondered how he managed to ruffle her feathers. "I am not powerful enough. None of us are."

Hope knew his proficiency and high aptitude for magic would get him into trouble one day. All of the best gifts were like that. Condemnation in disguise. Hope loved the feeling of magic, the rush of it. Magic felt like a part of him, an essential piece of his body. His l'Cie status was nothing to wonder over, but the magic imbued in him was.

"Powerful enough for what?"

A dreamy look washed over Castea's face, portraying a youthful wistfulness that seemed misplaced on her features. "To change the world." She clapped her hands, rubbing them together as she settled into her spot. "We've had people watching over you for years. Did you know that?" Castea began.

Years? He was being watched for _years_? How had he not known? How did no one catch them?

"You got through that mess of research rather quickly. I was impressed. You figured out so much about the crystal so fast that it was no wonder why you were talked about as this brilliant leader. You even got the location right. It was the reason we had to fetch Yeul and why we had to wait to take you. We wanted to know, for sure, the location of the crystals and Yeul was the only one who knew. A shame we had to torture the girl to get it out of her. Her cries and screams were heartbreaking." Castea brought her hand to her chest, affecting a pout. Hope could feel the rage emanating from Zalera. "Especially when she cried out for her guardian who could no longer save her. Right, Zalera?"

"Just you wait, bitch."

"Please, you won't live long enough," Castea turned her nose up in a crude dismissal. "The crystal shards are in Etro's shrine and the places where Pulse and Lindzei departed from the world."

"But we already-"

She waved Hope off. "They can only be found by you with your powers. Your silly little underlings couldn't find them if they searched for decades."

"And you tormenting me helps me accomplish my _destiny_ how exactly?"

Castea pursed her lips as she looked at his left wrist. "If you hadn't noticed, your brand is gone. Without your brand your powers lay dormant inside you. It's ironic, really. Etro took pity on you and your friends by releasing you from your fate as l'Cie, and this in turn left you with another terrible fate - having to reawaken your brand. Not easily done, mind you. Your freedom from the l'Cie curse is also why each of you awaken at different and unknown times. A l'Cie with no further purpose can only awaken when and if they are willing to. You all could go on in a stasis paradise forever if you wished to."

"So doing this will help bring my brand back. But... Why do you care? What's your purpose with the crystal?"

"Ah, you want to know the root of it all, huh? Well, we know you want to wake those in stasis, saving your cuddle buddies and your previous home. It's sweet and touching and makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside." She rolled her eyes, and Hope burned. "It's a smart plan. Who knows when they'll wake up. Tomorrow... centuries from now... and undoubtedly Cocoon's fate as well as that of its citizens rests in your Oerban friends' stasis. Should they awaken... Cocoon may just continue its plunge toward Pulse."

"Just get on with it," Zalera bit, "before you bore the kid to death."

Castea came back to herself, the delight prancing on her cheeks skidding to a stop. She smoothed her hair back, irritation in the flicker of her eyes. "That crystal is the most powerful object in this world. Only you have the power to find it and wield it. I have no doubt that it could wake your friends, but what we want brings us back to the whole reason you six were made l'Cie in the first place."

Emerald eyes bulged. He could feel dread creep into his blood. "No," Hope said, shaking his head, shaking his entire body against that future.

"Yes," Castea hissed, her voice dripping with desire. "You shall use the crystal to bring the Maker back to this world. It shall be rebuilt as a new world, made only for those who deserve it and those powerful enough to rule it." Castea's grin cut across her face, her laughter like a witch's cackle. "You didn't think it would be that easy to escape your fate, now did you?"

 _Easy?_ She thought him fighting for his life was easy? Saving the world, the death of his mother, losing his friends, she thought all of that was easy. After everything he lost and sacrificed, he was going to have to face that horror of an unbreakable fate again? "No!" Hope cried. "I won't do it and you can't make me. I fought my focus before. I'll do it again. No matter how or if you bring my brand back, I won't."

"Oh, you will," Castea leaned back over him, "and that's the fun part. The only way to bring back a brand is through the l'Cie's sheer agony and broken will. The wounds. The pain. It's all a part of the process. With this your body will reject this physical plane, calling upon your spiritual will. It's a challenge, but we know how you love challenges. Or is that just your guardian?"

Hope gnashed his teeth at the woman. Ready to bite, claw, hurt her in any way he could. _How dare you talk about Light._

"I know it's not easy to accept, and really you shouldn't. It'll just make it that much harder to reawaken your brand." She brushed her hand against his cheek, smiling as he jerked out of her hold. "It's funny. 'Salvation is born of sacrifice – miracles, of misery.' I'm sure this phrase isn't new to you. You probably just never knew how much it would mean for you in the future."

"No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no!" Hope kept shaking his head, kept screaming out his refusal. Orphan's words were like oil in his ears, slick and slimy and he wanted it gone. He couldn't believe it. Had everything been for nothing? They saved the world in time for it to be thrown into chaos yet again? Hope thought about his home, the house he and his father built for his mother. He thought about Academia, the city his people crafted with their own hands. It couldn't be destroyed, not after they had achieved a sense of peace.

He had such high hopes for the future. It was a mirror Hope stared into during his worst trials, when he would look through the glass and see happiness. Togetherness. Freedom.

The glass shattered. The images falling into shards at Hope's feet. Everything would be ruined by beings once again trying to bring back their lost deity.

"Sebastian," Castea called.

The man was at her side in an instant, the woman's shadow. "Lady Hidon," Sebastian addressed, bowing.

"It's time, my friend."

Hope stiffened as the man's eyes fell on him.

"Don't give in, Hope," Zalera said, a plea in her voice. Hope looked to her in slow, terrified jerks of his head. Her eyes widened as their gazes met, a tear falling from her eye but Hope didn't understand why. "You can't give in. Please, stay strong."

Hope nodded.

 _I'm going to fight_ , he told himself. _I'm going to make it home._

But he wasn't a solider. He wasn't a superhero.

Inside, Hope still felt like that little boy, hiding from the monsters in his closet.

* * *

The search was aggravatingly slow from the beginning. Lightning could have released an alraune and caught Hope faster. She had fought and argued and bargained until she was outright pleading to be let on a search team. She couldn't sit in a hospital and wait. She couldn't go back to patrolling the outskirts of the city like a good little soldier. If being a good soldier meant letting your loved ones die, then she was done with it. She would search on her own. She said as much.

Nivien La Salle was the one that stood up for her, much to Lightning's shock and confusion. Nivien was leading one search team with her squadron of soldiers and volunteered to take Lightning on. When Lightning learned that Sazh was going to be their pilot, she figured the man had pulled for her.

Lightning wanted to take on the city of Sanctum scum, pry answers out of those brainwashed fools. But that wasn't her assignment. Their team searched old settlement locations, known and surveyed structures, and blah, blah, blah. Lightning followed her orders, checking everywhere she was told because at least she was doing _something_. She knew how pointless most of this was. They had no real leads, no organization or location to hunt for. All they had was a sketch of the leader that Lightning killed. A picture of a dead man and a scrap of generic cloth. Those weren't clues in Lightning's book, just lost causes. The lack of information led to a search covering all of Pulse, where most of the terrain had yet to be explored by Cocoon peoples.

Summed up in a word, the search was hopeless.

Literally.

Lightning couldn't help but blame herself. She should have fought harder to get to Hope. She should have been more observant of her attackers. She should have interrogated the man before slashing his neck. She should have-

Lightning paused, leaning against the wall of her current search location, the fourth floor of Hyberian Castle on the Eastern side of Pulse. She drew in breaths, let them out until her racing pulse slowed. _I never should have left him in the first place._ It had been thirty-six hours since Hope's abduction. Something drained out of Lightning with each hour that passed. There was no contact. No ransom requested. Wasn't that what politicians and powerful people were taken for? Money or acknowledgement or leverage or terrorism or activism or compliance with a set of demands?

They took Hope because he was the director, so why weren't they doing anything with their leverage?

_Hope… Where are you?_

Lightning pushed herself off of the wall, put one foot after the other and kept up her search. The castle was centuries old, made of stone bricks that would give way under foot, crumbling walls, and vines that climbed over windows and strung together what was left of the ceiling. Lightning remembered this castle as one they took shelter in on their way to Oerba. That was yesterday for Lightning, and for a building as aged as this one, it must have felt like yesterday for it, too.

"Anything to report, Farron?"

Nivien ducked under a fallen column to join Lightning on her side of the room. Nivien was back in her soldier's outfit with her sharp stance and glowing rank, a different person than the one Lightning sat across from at the café.

"Not a thing, Lieutenant."

"About time we move on, then."

"What far flung site are we going to this time?" Lightning muttered.

Nivien's ears twitched. "I brought you on because you are the only one who met with these attackers. I think that makes you a valuable asset."

The stiffness edged from Lightning's stance, and she dropped her crossed arms. "I know what the higher ups thought. That I am unreliable. Deluded. Even worse, a suspect."

"I am not one of them. If you have an idea, or think of anything that could lead to the recovery of Hope-" There was a crack, in Nivien's voice as well as her expression. She sucked her lips back between her teeth, shutting her eyes for a half of a second, before they opened again, more focused than ever. "If you think of anything that could lead to the recovery of the director, I'll listen, but until then, we stick to the locations we are given. Alright?"

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"That's Nivien, Lightning."

They were walking their way down the stairs toward the bottom level when a burst of static came over Nivien's radio, followed by _"This is- Oh holy Etr-"_ There was a horrified shout, that was abruptly cut short.

Nivien pulled her radio, speaking into the receiver. "This is Lieutenant La Salle. Report." Static answered. She held the device to her ear, and Lightning leaned in, straining to hear. There was a faint thump. Two. Three.

It was getting louder.

No.

It was getting closer.

Lightning recognized the sound, and the rumbling beneath their feet as the castle began to shake and stones began to fall around them. They were the heavy footfalls of ruin.

Something disturbed an adamantoise.

Lightning's gaze met Nivien's, finding alarm edging her eyes.

_"Lieutenant! Lieutenant! Come in!"_

"Yes, what's your status?"

Erratic breathing came back at her, panicked shouts in the background. _"Oh, Maker! It's bad. We have three down, two wounded. It was an adamantoise attack. It came out of nowhere. You have to get out! It's headed on a collision course toward your location!"_

"Get everyone you can back on the aircraft," Nivien yelled into her radio. She took off running, skipping stairs as she signaled any soldier in sight. "Everyone, to the ship!"

Lightning followed, her mind on Sazh. On their airship that would be little more than a rock in the adamantoise's path.

 _"What about the others?"_ the soldier asked. _"My team. They could still be alive."_

They were nearing the entrance of the castle and could hear the scrambling soldiers outside. Yelling. Shouting. Stomping that shook the ground. A scream.

Lightning's eyes shot over to Nivien.

 _You wouldn't_ , Lightning's eyes asked.

 _It's a soldier's duty_ , Nivien's eyes seemed to answer before she spoke into the radio, "We have to leave them."

Lightning yanked Nivien back, gripping a pauldron with a rank that was as useless as decoration. "They'll die."

Nivien shook off Lightning's hold, glancing impatience her way. "We don't know how hostile that thing is. It could come after all of us and crush our ship. I'm not risking it."

Lightning growled as they ran outside, soldiers streaming out from the castle to congeal into a trail like frantic ants heading for shelter from the rain. The adamantoise was close, roaring its way closer as it skewered a soldier onto one of its tusks.

"Damn, it's nearly here," said Sazh as he stuck his head out of the hatch. He was waving the soldiers in as Lightning and Nivien made it to the airship.

"This isn't a tourist bus, Katzroy," Nivien scolded. "Get this craft in the air."

"But there are still-"

"I said move!"

Sazh nodded before his eyes met Lightning. She could still hear screams, cries of soldiers telling them to wait. She turned, watching the skewered soldier be crudely flung off into the trees. Lightning gave Sazh a look, one just like on the purge train. She was done with letting her enemies win.

"Lightning!" she could hear Sazh call out as she drew her gunblade. Lightning smirked as she heard Sazh trail after with a, "Ah hell."

"Katzroy! That is an order!"

"I ain't a soldier!" Sazh yelled back, "I'm just a pilot."

Lightning and Sazh headed toward the beast, running around the bodies of fallen soldiers.

"Are any of 'em alive?" Sazh asked.

"Too late for regrets." Lightning stood against the adamantoise, gunblade ready. "Check for survivors."

The adamantoise swung its head down towards Lightning, swiping at her with its bloodied tusks. She leapt out of its path, hitting the ground and rolling off of her shoulder to stand back up. Shots rang out from behind her, piercing into the beast's front legs.

"I told you to look for survivors," Lightning yelled over her shoulder.

"And I told you both," Nivien said, shooting more rounds from her gunblade, "that we were leaving." Lightning smirked, but it shrunk as she met Nivien's furious gaze.

Lightning knew she must have lost her mind. The few times they'd gone up against these things, their team barely made it out alive. And that was with magic on their side.

"None," Sazh ran up between them, wheezing out breaths. "It took out all of 'em."

Lightning clenched her teeth, flipping out her blade. They couldn't save any of them.

Not one.

Focusing on the battle in front of her, Lightning rushed at the adamantoise, striking its left foreleg. She could see Nivien in her periphery, slashing at its right foreleg. Shots were fired from Sazh's direction, a barrage of bullets whizzing up toward the beast's face. It lifted its right leg and Nivien leapt away from its coming step. The stomp quaked the ground, splashing up dirt as the ground caved beneath Lightning's feet. Lightning reached for something to grab, to keep her from being swallowed into the ground. But there was nothing.

A hand shot out, grasping Lightning. Nivien hefted her up, swinging her back toward the beast. Lightning skidded to a stop, slashing and stabbing into the adamantoise's leg until it buckled. The adamantoise wailed as Nivien and Sazh kept shooting at its other foreleg. It finally began to crumple to the ground.

It was down, but it wasn't out. With the adamantoise staggered, Lightning lunged toward its face, but Nivien stepped into her path, disarming Lightning with a well-placed blow to the elbow.

"This is the time to take it out," Lightning said, shoving her way toward her fallen gunblade. "I've fought these things before."

"I don't care. We have to leave. This is no longer a rescue mission. My men are dead and we will be too if we don't leave now."

A bloodlust roared through Lightning. She wanted to stab, slice, maim. Anything to get this rush of worthlessness out of her system. Lightning looked at Sazh, his eyes wide, hands shaking.

They had no magic. No eidolons.

They didn't have Snow or Vanille or Fang to back them up.

They didn't have Hope to heal their wounds.

Nivien was right. The attacks they landed on the adamantoise might as well have been tickles. They turned tail and ran.

Nivien pulled up her radio, thinning her heavy breaths to speak. "Come in, this is Lieutenant La Salle. I need Pockelle to get the ship going. We're on our way back."

_"Roger that."_

The group made it to the ship before the adamantoise stood back up. The hatch wasn't closed before the co-pilot was raising them into the air. The ship was left with a crew of grim faces as they ascended, not a soldier looking back at the graveyard left behind them.

"We'll return for their bodies," Nivien assured them.

No one answered.

Lightning drew herself back, the lone wolf stalking off again. There was a burning inside of her, a fire stoked and ready until it would explode. The flames consumed her mind, singed her lungs. Fighting was the only thing that stopped it. A target in front of her. Lightning watched the adamantoise disappear, her hand on her blade like she could finish it off. Embers still burned, fumes wisping up her throat.

"What the hell was that, Farron?" Nivien asked, her boots plunking against the metal as she stormed after Lightning. Lightning could feel her at her back, and wondered if she was choking on fumes of her own. "I gave an order and-"

"I didn't agree with it." Lightning turned to face Nivien, her superior, the commanding officer, the one person who gave her a chance. None of that mattered.

"I would have left you back there if Katzroy hadn't run after you, you know that?" Nivien waited for an answer, an apology, a look of regret, but Lightning refused to give her anything. "You're done. I'm not allowing you off of this ship for the rest of this mission."

"What?"

Nivien smiled, a smug thing in the face of Lightning's aghast expression. Lightning wanted to smack it right off of her face. Nivien turned back toward the cockpit, arms behind her back, at ease as she strode away. "When we get back to Academia, I'm recommending that you get taken off of the search."

Lightning pulled her gunblade, sights locked on the middle of Nivien's back. She was burning, flames eating at her from the inside out. It scorched every rational, logical thought in her mind, smoke choking the 'good little soldier' to death.

Nivien turned toward her slowly, disbelief plunging her brow. "Think this through, Farron."

"I have to do this," Lightning said, securing her aim. "I'm the one responsible for his abduction. I should have been there to protect him."

Nivien whipped her gunblade out of its holster. "Don't do it. You know you aren't capable of making the right decisions right now. I know you want to find Hope and so do I-"

"Then how are you so calm?" Lightning asked, the question rippling through her, down to the ache in her bones.

Two soldiers stood behind Nivien, ready to back their C.O. Sazh stood behind Lightning, his guns pulled in response. Nivien held up a hand, commanded her men to stand down.

_You think you can take me on all by yourself. Big mistake._

Nivien sneered back at Lightning. "I'm calm because I have to be. You don't think that I care, is that it? I know what that was about. You weren't concerned about my men. If you had been thinking you would have made the same call as me and you know it. That was about you looking for a fight." Lightning's eyes narrowed, her lip curling at the accusation. "You were reckless. Hope needs us to be level-headed or he'll never be found."

"'Cause you know what Hope needs."

Nivien's jaw dropped. Floored, she advanced on Lightning, flicking her weapon into blade mode as she swung down at Lightning's right side. Lightning drew up her gunblade, blocking the attack and parrying it with a swing of her own. Nivien caught Lightning's swing, their blades clanging and hissing against each other. Lightning pushed off, causing Nivien to stumble back. Lightning took advantage of her opponent's shaky footing, kicking at Nivien's knees to bring her down. Nivien noticed a split second before impact, leading Lightning's foot to meet the shield of Nivien's blade instead. The impact wrenched the weapon in Nivien's hand, loosening her hold.

_Got you._

Lightning drew back to strike, aiming to disarm her opponent. Arms encircled her waist before she could deal the finishing blow, yanking her away from her target.

"Now that's enough," Sazh hollered, pulling Lightning up off of her feet as she struggled.

Lightning elbowed him in the chest, stomped down on his foot and smashed her head back into his nose until he finally released her. Sazh cursed up a storm as he held his face.

Nivien was helped up by one of her soldiers, contempt steeling her face as she holstered her weapon. "Don't make the mistake of thinking that you are the only one who cares for him."

The fire burned hotter, stronger. Lightning renewed her hold on her gunblade.

Sazh smacked a hand to his forehead. "Come now. We don't need this. La Salle, don't you think you oughta contact the base about the incident?" Nivien shot a hard glance at Sazh before nodding. She stalked off to the cockpit, rage in every step.

Lightning marched to the back of the ship. Wherever got her the furthest from that woman. From that scene that she had made. Lightning replayed it in her mind, endangering a ship full of people, drawing against a lieutenant, slamming herself against Sazh, and found herself horrified by her own actions. It extinguished the fire, left nothing but traces of burnt remnants.

Sazh came up beside her, exasperated hands in the air. "What were ya thinkin', girl? Are you even thinkin'?"

"Get away from me, Sazh."

"Oh, no. You could have gotten me killed. I think I deserve an explanation." Lightning sat in a seat on the wall at the back of the ship, held her face in her hands. Sazh stood in front of her. She could imagine that 'you've done it now' look on his face. "I've seen you pull a lotta crazy shit, Lightning, but that was just dumb."

"I know, alright," Lightning relented. "I just... I deserve to be taken off of the team and I know it. I shouldn't have been allowed on it in the first place, obviously, but... I was supposed to protect him. I promised him that."

Lightning made a promise.

" _A promise is the most sacred thing in this world, Claire." The two girls were huddled up in a blanket-fort in their living room. Serah had one pinky held out, waiting for Lightning's. "It's made out of trust. Out of love. Never go back on a promise."_

And she broke it.

The fire sparked. Smoke rose.

Sazh was still in front of her. She wondered if he was going to get all fatherly on her. If he was going to try to reason with her. If he was going to use an anecdotal situation about childrearing with Dajh to make her laugh and learn some kind of lesson.

He didn't get the chance to do anything.

Nivien came up to Sazh, stared right at him like Lightning wasn't there.

That would have angered Lightning, were it not for the grave look on Nivien's face.

"We have to go back to base. There's been an emergency. Everyone's being called back in."

* * *

Castea sat in her chair, her throne for now, and listened to the boy's agonized screams. She reveled in his pain, his terror. She was someone to be feared. She was someone to be applauded, praised, _glorified_. Power was her drug, and the Estheim boy served to slip that drug into her veins with every scream and wail. His brand would bring her another step toward ultimate power. Just a little more and the crystal would be hers.

A knock on her door drained the high right out of her. "Yes," she called.

"No need to sound so grumpy."

The door opened to reveal her husband. Eyes as dark as coal stared back at her, eyes that she used to equate with pools of darkness. Waist length black hair was tied in the middle by a red ribbon. His smirk, once hailed as the most seductive in their nation, had been deposed from his face as easily as he had been from his throne, leaving a dullness in its wake. He was a neutered dog now, trained to sit at her feet since she had slashed her blade across his face. That pretty face was now scarred with a line of meshed together skin. Despite his cloak of equal color, he was no equal to her.

Though he still liked to test the limits of his leash every now and then.

"We have a problem."

Castea rolled her eyes, standing from her chair to pull on her cloak. "I knew this was going too smoothly. What is it, Barsilisk?"

"No need to fuss. Sit. Sit. I have already begun moving our pieces on the board. It shall be handled swiftly."

"You did what?!" Castea snapped. "You give no orders here, Barsilisk. Not without _my_ say so."

The man gave a constrained smile, unaffected. "Remain calm, my dear. There was no time."

"I am no fool." Castea closed in, gripping Barsilisk by his tail of hair. "I will not be usurped in any fashion. Know your place."

Barsilisk's face did not change. There was no longer the storm of fury, the shards of pride. Centuries had chipped the emotions from his face. "They are headed in our direction," he said, and Castea abandoned her grip.

"I thought they didn't know this ark's location?"

"Apparently our intel was wrong. But it doesn't matter, my plan- _our_ plan is going fine. I just require some assistance."

* * *

Amodar and Rygdea were already waiting in the hangar when their ship docked. They dismissed Nivien's squad, their faces the picture of professionalism.

Something was very wrong.

Lightning saluted the general, but there was no salute back, no hearty laugh with 'why so stuffy with your previous legal guardian?' Nothing. He settled a hand on Nivien's shoulder, used it to steer her off to the side until they were out of earshot.

Sazh and Lightning turned their attention to Rygdea, finding defeat in the drag of his smile. When they left he looked like a man heading to war, ready to tear their enemies a new one. They returned to a man who looked like he lost everything, the war, and worse, his spirit.

"What's going on, Rygdea?" Lightning asked, her gaze grazing over an empty hangar docked with empty ships.

His smile tightened, hand raking through his hair. "We've lost a search team."

"What?" Lightning and Sazh gasped. They glanced at each other and Lightning nodded at Sazh to continue.

"A whole team? So soon? Which-"

"No!"

Lightning looked to the shout to watch Nivien crumble. Her hands held onto Amodar's coat as she collapsed against him, and Nivien cried. "No, they can't...!" She shoved her face into his chest, burrowing herself as she kept crying out words Lightning couldn't make out.

"No…" Sazh said, looking to Rygdea for assurance. "It can't be."

Lightning looked between the two men, trying to connect the dots that Sazh had.

"One of our ships was attacked," Rygdea said. "When we sent a team to find it, all they found was our crashed ship and Maqui beaten to hell inside. The rest of the team was nowhere to be found."

Now Lightning understood Nivien's cries. If it was the team that Maqui had been on, then Olly La Salle had been on it as well.

Lightning watched Amodar hold Nivien up, leading her to a bench on the side. She was a shaking, tear-soaked mess. Lightning couldn't blame her.

If only Maqui remained, then that meant that Nivien's brother was missing now, too.

"Wha-what do we do," Sazh asked.

Rygdea looked up, holding something back, and Lightning was startled by how glassy his eyes looked. "Maqui woke up in the rescue ship on their way back. He told the medics that it was a bunch of men in black cloaks that attacked." Lightning looked up from the ground to find Rygdea staring at her as he spoke. He nodded, like he understood her feelings of vindication after having her actions questioned, and her feelings of disgust towards herself for being relieved by any part of this incident. "He said that there was one man, a leader in a white robe that told him to tell us something."

Rygdea swallowed and clenched his fists. He smacked a tray off of a workbench beside them, parts and tools clattering to the floor. Lightning would have been shocked by such an action by the cool Rygdea, if her own feelings didn't have her teetering on the same edge.

"He said to call off the search," Rygdea spoke toward the ground, shame coiled in his tone, "or there will be a body a day delivered to us."


	9. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hospital brings with it whispers of the past, a conversation leads to an uncomfortable revelation, and the city gets a new leader.

The hospital waited, an open maw ready to swallow Lightning whole. Just the sight twitched the nerves beneath her skin. Emotions stirred, forming a froth in her stomach until Lightning wanted to hurl.

Sazh kept shooting furtive glances her way as they entered through the swishing sliding doors.

"What?" Lightning asked.

"Are you…" Sazh stopped, rethinking his words before barreling through, "afraid of hospitals?"

Lightning didn't consider herself afraid of anything. She was uncomfortable, sure. Afraid, certainly not. "Don't be stupid."

"Okay," Sazh said, but it was in that high pitch that implied the opposite, "You just… look paler than normal."

Lightning saw herself in the reflection of a window. Paler she was, but that was something that was out of her control. She focused her thoughts back on Maqui, on the visit that they were paying him and the information they would get.

Until she spotted a woman, mid-forties or so, pallor sallow with oxygen tubes in her nose. Her face was eclipsed by a kind smile that crests into her eyes. A little girl bounced over to the woman, jumped up into a hug and Lightning looked away.

No matter how much she told herself to focus on Maqui, her mind fixated on the sick woman, the little girl, the hospital room that the woman may not leave alive. The scene strangled Lightning with the repressed memories of her mother. Her sick, ailing mother. Lightning and Serah spent their days and nights in a cold hospital room, watching their mother waste away into nothing. Lightning would do her homework, Serah would cry, and their mother would lay there. She spent most of her stay sedated, and Lightning preferred her that way, asleep and dreaming and normal. It was better than when she was awake. When she would scream at Serah, calling her a demon child, a trickster wearing her daughter's skin. When she would call Lightning mommy, and reach for her hand with the voice of a child.

Young Lightning hated that hospital. She hated her mother's illness. She hated her mother. She wished that the woman would die, and then maybe she and Serah could remember the good times, salvage the image of motherhood in their souls.

Their mother passed away the next day. Lightning felt her wish prick into her skin, stinging like nettles that couldn't be plucked out. Lightning felt them constantly. As Serah's small hands clutched desperately onto her side, their mother drawing her last breath as the doctors failed to revive her. As the mahogany casket sunk into the ground. As she sat outside of child services, holding her sister's hand tightly in hers, too afraid to make another wish.

For Lightning, the hospital was not only a reminder of the fragility of life, but a place that reverted her back into her fifteen-year-old self that craved her mother's death. It brought back the guilt that she shut off when she chose to become a soldier and forget her past. It marked the day that Claire Farron became Lightning.

Their group reached Maqui's room. It was just Rygdea, Lightning and Sazh. Nivien and Amodar had troops to address. Lightning didn't miss the look that Nivien served her, like it was some planned betrayal.

Lebreau and Yuj sat outside of Maqui's hospital room. Yuj's face was buried in his knees, arms curled around his legs tight enough that it looked like he could have snapped in two. Lebreau was beside him, staring at the wall, face wet but tears absent, her hand slowly moving up and down Yuj's back. She was the first to notice them. She stood, eyes wide and hopeful.

"Have you guys-" Lebreau and Rygdea started, the glint of hope in their eyes dulling.

Lebreau folded her hands, tugged at her fingers as she asked in a small voice, "Have you guys found anything?" Yuj's head popped up at the question, his expression dazed. He looked over each of them, but Lightning wasn't sure if he was seeing and processing their presence.

"Not yet," Rygdea replied. Lebreau whimpered, pinching and pulling her fingers with renewed vigor. "How's Maqui?"

"It's..." Lebreau seemed to shift herself into neutral, facing Rygdea with a confidence that no one could imitate. "He'll be alright. He's... unconscious right now. He has some nasty bruising and cuts. His shoulder was dislocated. The worst are his ribs, but-"

"Other than that he's just peachy!" Yuj shot up from his spot. His hands gripped the ties of his jacket like he was ready to rip them off. "Lightning gets attacked. Hope goes missing. Olly and Gadot get taken. Maqui gets beaten to a pulp. What next?! What do these people want?"

"Gadot was on that team, too?" Sazh asked, barely above a whisper, and Lightning understood.

"You guys are my only family," Yuj said, tugging on Lebreau's arm, head ducked down, brushing his forehead against her bicep. "We already lost Snow. I mean… is this really about Hope? They already have him. What does this have to do with-?"

Rygdea stepped toward Yuj, offering a hand of comfort, of sympathy, but Lebreau gave him a look that stopped him in his tracks. "I know this isn't easy, but we need to stay calm and rational," Rygdea said, and Lightning knew that his words weren't just meant for Lebreau and Yuj. His glance was hardly subtle. "Yes, this is about Hope. We must have spooked them on our search because the purpose of their attack was to stop our hunt."

"Why did they have to take them?" Lebreau asked, cradling Yuj's head against her. "An entire team of soldiers. W-why… Why beat up Maqui?"

"They took them as leverage against us and assaulted Maqui to show us that they mean business. If we don't stop the search... Gadot and Olly... the whole lot of them will be killed."

Lebreau gasped, horror in her eyes.

"But why all of this for Hope?" Yuj cried, incensed. "Why do they want him? Why are they willing to go through all of this trouble to keep him?"

"Because the idiot just had to go and make himself a valuable political figure," Lebreau joked, chuckles strained. It softened Yuj, drained the outrage right out of him.

"He's awake," Maqui's nurse announced as she exited his room, stepping around the huddled mass in the hall.

Yuj and Lebreau scrambled into the room, tripping over themselves to glomp their injured friend. A few cuts and bruised ribs didn't accurately project the image of Maqui's body. The man looked like he had been dragged out of hell. Split skin and dark, mottled bruises. His eyes looked like that of a sunken raccoon's.

"Okay, guys," Maqui said, his voice as boyish and lively as ever. "I'm okay. Jeez, it's not like I died or anything." Maqui choked on a gasp, and the two jumped off of him like he was on fire.

"We're just glad you're okay, Maq." Lebreau made to hug him again, but settled for patting his blonde spikes.

"Yeah, don't worry us like that, dude," Yuj sniffed.

Maqui looked at Rygdea as he entered the room. Sazh and Lightning remained on the outskirts. "Are they really gone?" Maqui asked Rygdea, a quiver in his voice. "I didn't just imagine it, right? If I could only be so lucky."

"No, sorry to say that you didn't imagine it. What do you remember?"

"Can't this wait?" Lebreau looked between the two of them, her hand ghosting over the bandages wrapped around Maqui's rib cage. "I mean, Maqui just woke up."

"Unfortunately, no. We need all of the information we can get. If we can't find our missing soldiers... we'll have no choice but to stop the search all together and give in to their demands."

Lightning's hand clenched against the door frame. She needed to be out there. She needed to be looking. But Lightning had been leashed, Rygdea left as her handler. He was the one that allowed her to visit Maqui. 'As a concerned friend,' Rygdea had insisted, 'in no way are you there to gather info. That's my job.' His wink had been enough to keep her calm.

_I won't let them abandon you, Hope._

"It's okay, Lebreau," Maqui took a gulp of the water sitting at his bedside. "I want to do what I can to help find everyone."

"Okay," Rygdea began, taking Lebreau's place at Maqui's side, "why don't you tell us what you remember."

"Everything was going fine. We finished searching the abandoned village of Nalquif. We were ascending when there was a charge of electricity that seemed to surge throughout the ship. It fried all of the circuits. The power zapped right out. We started to fall and fall and fall. I swear my stomach found a new home in my throat. Just as we were about to hit the ground, it was like an invisible hand caught us. The sudden stop jerked us all forward and people were tumbling to the front. I grabbed onto a cargo strap, held on even after it felt like my arm was ripped from my shoulder.

"We stayed like that. Suspended. Frozen. A few soldiers began to leverage themselves up, but it wasn't over. The ship lurched again and smashed down into the ground. I lost my grip, hit my head against something. Next thing I knew there were gunshots and yelling before everyone seemed to freeze. My vision was incredibly blurry, they were just blobs of color, but... nobody was moving. Everyone was frozen… like-like time had stopped."

"Were you?" Sazh asked, his head poking into the room.

"No, and I thought it was weird, too. But I fell into the weapon storage closet, so whoever... did it couldn't see me, maybe? Is that how it works? I don't know. I heard the ship open while everyone was stuck. It was like those guys were controlling the ship from the outside. Buttons and controls were moving by themselves. Three big, and I mean _big,_ guys came on the ship in these black cloaks. I didn't know what to do so I..." He drew in a deep breath, Maqui's face pinching in the effort to withhold his emotions. They warred in his eyes, until shame hunched his shoulders. "...I'm not proud of myself, guys. Not at all. I pushed myself back in the closet.

"I couldn't see anything else from there, but I heard a man commanding the others. There were… loud thumps and grunts. Another guy called the man in charge something like Master Hidden or Hi... Hi... something. I couldn't get all of it. Then there was silence. It went on for minutes that felt like centuries. I thought it was over, but then a shadow came over the light on me and... there was a hooded man. He picked me up by my collar and-and dragged me out." Maqui visibly shook, his eyes squished shut.

Lebreau came up beside him and put an arm around his shoulders. She held him, close, but gentle. He put his weight on her and Lightning wondered if Lebreau was like the group's surrogate mother. That was what the woman did when one of their group was broken. She took their weight, licked their wounds, and burdened herself with their problems.

"He threw me onto the floor in the middle of the ship. Then a man came up before me. He had black hair tied up in a bun. There was... a scar on his face under his left eye. I figured he was special since his cloak or hooded robe or whatever-it-was had been different. It was white. One of the giants went to... do something to me, but the guy stopped him. He said that I could be of use. He knelt in front of me and smirked... He smirked!" Maqui yelled suddenly, slamming his arms against his legs. "He was the guy that probably orchestrated everything... this whole mess and he was smirking. I was quaking in fear then, but... Now I just wish I'd fought back. But that's not important," Maqui told himself. "He told me to remember what he was going to say to me. He said that he was taking my friends, but he swore that he wouldn't harm them unless it came to it. That he just wanted us to stop looking because Hope was fine."

Lightning came off the wall and stood, tense as ever. She stared hard at Maqui, observing every twitch and stuttered syllable. She held his gaze, gripped onto it and refused to let go.

"...Everyone will be fine, as long as we stop the search. If we don't, they'll deliver a body a day to us. If we continue even after they've... gone through their stock..." Maqui swallowed, "then they'll just get more. And he said that after that, he wouldn't be able to ensure H-Hope's safe return. That they... Maker, they..." Maqui broke, their steady eye contact shattering as he nestled himself back into Lebreau's waiting arms.

"They'll what?" Lightning insisted. The question ripped her 'concerned friend' cover to shreds, but disguises were never her thing.

Maqui's voice was muffled in Lebreau's chest, but remarkably steady. "They may have to keep a few pieces... Maker, how could this happen?"

Lightning felt her stomach plummet inside of her. It was a drop from a roller-coaster. A deep dive in an airship. The idea rattled Lightning, sprang pieces loose. _No. They can't do that to him. They can't. I'll kill them. I'll kill them all._

Sazh thumped his forehead against the wall. "That kid... Maker knows what they want with him if their willing to..."

"We have to choose," Yuj said, words drifting out of his mouth, "Gadot… or Hope?"

"Then the man signaled the guys around me and they did… _this_ ," Maqui said, gesturing to himself, his broken, beaten body and Lightning couldn't stop herself from imagining the wounds on Hope. "After the first couple of blows... I was out."

"You did the right thing, Maqui," Rygdea said. Maqui's head buoyed up from Lebreau's hold, his eyes shooting toward the man. "You survived. If you'd tried to fight... you probably wouldn't be with us now." The man squeezed Maqui's shoulder gently before thanking him and leaving the room. Lightning and Sazh followed with hollow steps.

The air felt thinner. Inadequate. Lightning stared both men down, dared them to say what she knew they were thinking.

"What now?" Sazh asked.

"Don't you dare say it," Lightning warned Rygdea. She glared at him, fists balled at her sides. She wouldn't allow the words to exit Rygdea's mouth. She would shove them back in if she had to.

They were going to end the search. She knew it. They couldn't risk a ship full of men and more. Not for one man.

_Hope is supposed to be important. He lived for you people._

Lightning promised Hope that she would protect him. She told herself that she wouldn't abandon him. Lightning could never look Hope in the eye again if she just gave up on him.

She could never look him in the eye again if he was dead, either.

"We have to end-"

Lightning punched the words back into his mouth. "I said don't."

Rygdea held his jaw, looking to Sazh who held his hands up and stepped out of reach. "Lightning, please. I don't want this either, but we have to."

Before any more words could be said or fists could be flung, Lebreau quietly padded her way into the hall. "Maqui said that he forgot something. He said... that the main leader guy was definitely a l'Cie. He said... that the man's brand was on his neck, under his ear." She placed her hand on the spot, her fingers tracing along the skin. "He said that it wasn't like the one that Snow showed us though. It was like... all white... he said." Lebreau excused herself, ducking back into Maqui's room.

"Wasn't Fang's-" Rygdea asked.

"Yeah," Sazh nodded. "It was."

* * *

Sazh thought to visit the chocobo. Its perky feathers and harebrained antics kept him going some days. Made it all worth it. He could use some of that joy.

Lightning walked behind him, her steps slower somehow, lethargic since they left the hospital. When they made it to their respective rooms, the beep of Sazh's key reader was loud in the quiet, but not as loud as the slam of Lightning's door behind him. Sazh spun around, his pistol whipped out, safety off, trigger ready. It was Lightning's chest that he found himself aiming at, and he dropped his arm.

"Seriously, Lightning." Sazh shook his head, shoving his gun back into his holster. "Did you have to slam the door like that? I could have blown a hole right through you." Lightning didn't reply. She just… stood there, her back against the door like she could hold it shut, bar any monsters from entering.

Or leaving.

"You're supposed to say that an old man's got nothing on you…" Sazh chuckled, uneasy, rubbing at the stubble pebbling his chin.

"They called me guardian," Lightning said, revelation on her breath. Her hand hovered over her chest where a prison tag once laid. "Is this what it feels like to be a guardian? Loss. Sadness… He was there, on the couch. Smiling. Laughing. Sleeping. Now he's gone."

Sazh tentatively reached out, "Soldier Girl?"

Lightning's head jerked up. His hand was snagged into her grip. She arrested his arm, spinning them around and wrenching his arm up behind his back. His body was slammed into the wall. She kept hold of his wrist, seizing it upwards. "Damn, Lightning. I-I wasn't gonna do nothin'."

And Lightning backed off, "Sorry. Reflex."

Sazh stared her down, rubbing at his wrist. Lightning was stiff, expression strained. She stood in her doorway, a ghost on her back. Sazh knew the paralyzing nature of spirits. Even if they only existed in your mind. Hope's presence lingered on Lightning, haunting her thoughts.

Sazh knew. Because Hope was haunting him, too.

"Alright, look. Somethin' is obviously going on with you and-" Sazh sighed, receiving a dangerous glare from the soldier. "-and I'm not gonna make you tell me nothin' or anythin', but I think you should stay at my place. I'll take the couch and you can have the bed. I just don't think you should be-"

"I'll take the couch," Lightning said, catapulting into an agreement that Sazh had been prepared to wrestle her into.

She insisted on taking the couch, so Sazh laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling, counting chocobos until he could have sworn that he was hearing clucks in his head. Sleep didn't come easy to Sazh, not with his son enshrouded in crystal. Hope had been a familiar face in a sea of strangers when Sazh awoke. He was a friend and trusted confidant in times of pain, grief and solitude. He was the youngest of their group, someone in need of protection, until Sazh found himself shielded by Hope's small back. Carried on his tiny shoulders.

Hope may not have been the strongest among them, the bravest, or the wisest. But he most definitely had the strongest heart. He built himself strong, summoned a fortress to stand on, and learned to not only survive, but lead. He was the embodiment of hope. Held the future in his hands. He wasn't going to die. He had too much left to do. A life left to live.

Yet within his certainty, Sazh succumbed to the emptiness. Hope left a gap, a gaping hole in the fabric of his world. Since their group meshed into the imperfect band of rebels that they became as l'Cie, Hope was there. He had Sazh's back with a boomerang and a trembly, but sincere smile. Now Sazh's back was cold, the space empty.

Sazh was a man of simple pleasures. He loved to fly and he loved his family. As Dajh began to feel farther and farther away, Hope would pop up with a question. He would seek out Sazh's advice about an idea or a paper or stubborn acne or underage drinking or girl problems. He came to visit the chocobo, invited Sazh to his graduation. Sazh didn't get to read Dajh bedtime stories. He missed hearing his son's squeals and uncontrollable giggles. He didn't get presents made out of play doh. When Dajh's crystallization put Sazh's fatherhood on pause, Hope was there to press play again.

Hope made Sazh feel like the father that he loved being.

Sazh brushed his knuckles under his eyes, caught the tears before they could drown him. He ditched the idea of sleep, climbed out of bed and was jonesing for coffee therapy. Sazh exited his bedroom to the aroma of a dark roast thick in the air.

"Looks like somebody beat me to it."

Lightning was sitting on the arm of the couch, nursing a hot mug in her hands. The steam brushed a warmth into those pale cheeks that looked paler by the hour. Her outfit was rumpled in a way only restless tossing and turning could accomplish, so at least she had attempted to get some sleep, with the same luck as Sazh, it seemed.

"It's three o'clock in the mornin', girl. What are you doin' up?"

"I could ask you the same thing. I made coffee. Hope you don't mind."

"Nah, that's great actually." Sazh held his mug up in the air, as if in toast to Lightning's efforts, before drinking in the smell over the pot. "I need it. Haven't slept a wink, really. I suppose same goes for you?"

"I keep thinking about today."

"A rough one, for sure. Seeing Maqui like that. La Salle and I almost dying to save your ass."

"I keep thinking what it would have been like. Had Hope been here. Had it been a normal day like yesterday."

"Yesterday," Sazh said, a reminder because the day had passed like a week.

"Would we have spent an hour debating about funding regulations? Would we have eaten lunch at that food truck? Would we have battled over Hope's lack of sleep? Would I have-" the words twitched in Lightning's jaw. She bowed her head, staring into murky black. "Would I have done the responsible thing and forced guards on him, or protected him myself? Like a real guardian would have."

"There is no right way to be a guardian, Lightning. As a father, I would know. You do what you think is best. Sometimes… our charges get stolen from us no matter how well we perform our duties."

Lightning rubbed her palm into her eye, "Yeah. Yeah, sure." She nodded, set her mug down and picked up a frame that sat on his side table. Her eyes traveled across faces that Sazh held dear, looking at a scene that Sazh would never need a photo to remember. Her gaze flickered up to his hand. "Is this your wife and son?"

Sazh glanced down at his ring. It brought him to a simpler time, a lifetime ago when he was a normal person living a normal life with a normal family. "Yes." A short, terse answer.

"Sorry," Lightning set the picture back down, "I didn't mean to take you somewhere painful."

"Nah," Sazh said, straining to lighten himself back up. "Not painful. My life with them was never painful."

"I realized that I don't know much about you. You're a father and a pilot with a great shot."

"Now you're just butterin' me up."

Lightning smiled, small but there. Weak but breathing. "Where is she? Is she- Was she on Cocoon when…?"

Sazh curled his fingers around his cup, stiff joints soaking in the warmth. He sat himself on the couch, Lightning scooting herself down beside him. "She died. My greatest fear used to be that Dajh would forget her, seein' as he was just a tot when she passed. Now I fear that he'll wake up and I'll be gone. Dust and bones."

"What was your wife like?"

Sazh looked at the woman in the picture, disappointed by how little a digital image could capture in a person. "Her name was Wilda. Stunning, isn't she? Long, chocolate colored curls, deep hazel eyes. She was ashamed of her crooked teeth, so her smile was always like that - closed lips, but it stretched wide. Her voice… Oh, her voice was the sweetest. She would sing and all of my troubles didn't seem so troublin' anymore. If there was a person that encapsulated the word kindness, she was it. She taught tenth grade and she loved it. Those kids were her life. She made their problems her problems. And as a wife - I'd get up in the mornin' and be greeted with the most delicious smellin' food, her smile ever present like she enjoyed making me happy. She was a terrible cook when I met her," he laughed, remembering burnt pancakes and picking shell fragments out of his eggs, "but she got better. She even took cookin' classes because she wanted to make little ole me happy. And when we had Dajh... Goddess, she was such a wonderful mother."

Lightning hummed, back to contemplating the coffee in her cup.

Sazh bit against the inside of his cheek, chewed against renewed pain. It had been awhile since he talked about his wife, the last open ear having been Hope's. "Alright," Sazh sat forward, clapping his hands and rubbing them together, "now I have a question for you."

"I can't wait," Lightning deadpanned.

"What's with you and Hope? And I want honesty."

"I'm not sure what you mean," Lightning said, tone casual even as her gaze sharpened. Sazh watched the defensive barriers come up, one wall after another. "He's Hope," she said, like that explained everything. "He's in danger. I promised him that I would protect him. I will."

"I said honest."

"You think I would lie?" Lightning's brow pinched, and she scooted herself back in her spot, back against the arm, facing him like she was gauging an opponent.

"Enough bullshit, Lightning." Sazh poked at the bear, prodded, because he was tired of denial. He was tired of watching people dance around the truth when time was a precious, limited commodity. He hated watching the people that he cared about hurt themselves because they couldn't face facts. "I've never seen you so torn up, except maybe about your sister. You lost it when you couldn't find Hope until you had to be sedated. You took on an adamantoise. An _adamantoise_ , Lightning! You were going after that thing by yourself. Not to mention your little tiffs with Nivien and Rygdea. It's obvious that the kid means somethin' to ya. This is about more than just a promise... Don't ya think?"

"He's Hope," Lightning insisted, her eyelids crashing together, sealing herself off. "It doesn't matter what you or anyone else thinks. I'm going to bring him back. I'll quit if I have to."

That, right there. Lightning's protective instinct that bordered on self-destructive. How Lightning expressed her love for those that she cared most deeply for.

Sazh backpedaled. "You can't do that. Think this through."

"He's had enough pain. I won't let the world turn its back on him again."

"If you aren't going to think about yourself-"

"I don't need you to worry about me."

"Then at least think about those soldiers!" Sazh yelled. "They'll hurt those kids, Lightning. They're all just kids. People with families that are waiting just like you!"

Lightning scoffed as she stood, pacing in front of the coffee table, her frustration beating into the floor. "I have to do something."

"We'll do what we can, but I want you to make me a promise."

"What good is that? I'm not capable of keeping promises."

"Promise me that you won't rogue out on this." Lighting's head snapped in his direction, betrayal contorting her features. "When Hope gets through this, and he _will_ get through this, he's going to need his soldier girl to welcome him home."

"I can't-"

"Promise."

"Fine," Lightning crunched the word between her teeth before fleeing toward the door. "I'm going to visit Serah. And then I... I'm going to go for a run. I need to clear my head."

* * *

Lightning stood in the stasis room, staring at the place that Hope once stood as he contemplated Snow's crystal. A day. It had only been a day and he was standing by her side. Safe. Alive.

She knelt beside her sister, taking Serah's stiff hands into her own. It was like grasping at a statue. Lightning held on tighter, searching for that tenderness that was Serah's touch. "I'm a little late. Sorry. It's been hectic. On the bright side, it gave you two love birds some more time together." Lightning smirked, Snow a mountain of crystal to the side. "You better be taking care of her. Since I can't."

_Failure. You couldn't protect Serah. You couldn't protect Fang and Vanille._

_Look how well you protected Hope._

The thoughts poured ice through her veins, made Lightning shiver at the truth. She held on tighter to Serah, scurrying closer to her crystal, as if trying to burrow inside. She wondered what Serah was dreaming of. Something girly, probably. Her fantasy wedding brought to life for her. Lightning remembered the magazine clippings on her walls. The wedding dresses, table settings, flower arrangements. Lightning could almost imagine it. Her baby sister walking down the aisle, the big lug grinning at her as she walked. Would she want Lightning to give her away? Would Lightning have to wear one of those putrid bride's maid dresses?

Serah's words, her happiness, her bubbly welcomes, her very presence worked as a sedative for Lightning. At the end of a hard day, Serah was what made everything worth it. She was the only one capable of sanding down her hard edges.

Well, maybe not the only one.

_'You did protect her. Serah is safe, crystallized but safe. Thanks to you, she will wake up to a new world that will welcome her, instead of threaten her.'_

Hope's words played in her mind. He had no idea how much those words had soothed her. But now all those words did was remind her of her failure with him. "I lost him, Serah. I can't believe-" Lightning let out a slow, hollow laugh. "You don't even know who I'm talking about, huh? You'd like him. He's just like you. Smart, kind, gentle... a real pain in the ass when he wants to be. His name's Hope. He helped me save you." She smiled. "I don't think... I have to find him, Serah. I just have to."

Pushing herself up, Lightning caressed Serah's crystallized cheek. "I have to." Lightning left the stasis room, summoning the reserves of her energy as she went out for a run. Her body was exhausted, muscles pleading for rest, but she shut out its gripes and groans. Her mind was a jumbled mess, and when Serah wasn't there to right her, the rush of a good run worked just as well.

Lightning let the wind carry her, steering her over sidewalks, through parks, around construction sites, through open fields. The air numbed her mind, her will numbed her body. Lightning didn't navigate, didn't check the time or her pace. She let herself go, feeling herself lighten with the sky.

By the time she made it back to the Academy building, exhaustion leapt onto her back, sapping her drive. Her legs buckled, the muscles of her stomach seizing with cramps. _No, you're almost there. You can do this. You won't fail._ She stumbled into a tree behind the building, collapsing against its trunk. Lightning panted, her lungs shriveling up into husks in her chest. Her stomach churned until its contents bubbled up. She heaved into the grass, the vomit burning her throat.

Wiping her mouth, she walked forward, slowly, shakily, a toddler getting its bearings. She made it six steps before she fell on all fours. Her body screamed at her, overexerted and trembling. Just another failure. Lightning knew how to gauge the limits of her body. She ignored them, in her quest to get out of her head. Falling over onto her side, Lightning laid there, watching the branches spin above her.

Memories began to swirl in her mind. All of Hope. From their first meeting back when they'd gotten their brands, to him sticking to her like a thorn in her side, to her protecting him from Odin, to his budding strength and determination in the Gapra Whitewood, to their hug and promise in Palumpolum, to his summoning of Alexander, to holding his hand as they floated from Cocoon. Even back then, Hope had been someone important to her. Not just as a fellow l'Cie fugitive.

Maybe it was about more than just a promise. He was Hope. Lightning didn't know any other way to explain it. There weren't words for this feeling lighting up in her chest. As she thought back to her first sight of him in this new world. As he rescued her from the jaws of the gorgonopsid. As he'd taken her hand, held her against him. As his heartbeat settled beneath her touch. It was this nebulous feeling, but it ached inside of her, tortured and tormented her with a zeal only grief could accomplish. Lightning succumbed to it. She fisted her hand, beating it against the ground, her forehead and knees grinding into the dirt.

"Lightning?" A hand brushed against her shoulder, settled against her back.

"Hope?"

"C'mon, girl. Get up. This ain't no time to be lyin' around." Hands lifted her limbs, jostled her body up until she was leaning against something. Someone. "Lightning?"

"Sazh?" Lightning snapped to attention, her body falling forward until she was jerked to a stop, held up by nurturing hands.

She could vaguely make out his features, a blur until her vision adjusted to see his nervous smile. "Hey, let's get ya outta here." Lightning nodded, her head bobbing like the muscles in her neck gave out. Sazh took a step forward, and Lightning tried to move, but she was little more than a puppet with her strings cut. "Guess I'm gonna have to do the heavy liftin'."

Lightning drifted off. She was floating, rocked in this indescribable whiteness.

"Lightning? Wake up."

Lightning felt safe, cushioned by clouds.

"I guess I'll just have to go to the meetin' without ya."

She fell through, her body crashing into the ground. "Wait, what?" Her eyes shot open to find Sazh's face in front of her, his grin wide. She was sitting against a wall, slumped outside of her apartment. She attempted to sit up, but the movement stirred a dizziness and she fell back.

"Hey, glad to have ya back. We need to get you into your room."

Mindlessly, she reached into her pocket and pulled her key. Sazh took her key-card and a moment later she heard the beep and a click. With a grunt he heaved her up onto his shoulder, got her standing, got her through the door. He turned toward the direction of her room, but Lightning stopped, weighed herself in place. "No." She let go of Sazh, gaining her balance on her feet. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Alright, well, I'm gonna wait here. Jus' to make sure you're... ya know."

Lightning made it to the bathroom, shut the door behind her. Hazy, glazed eyes looked back at her in the mirror. There were streaks of dirt on her skin. Sweat soaked her clothes, made them stick uncomfortably. She shivered as it cooled on her skin. It took effort to peel off her clothes until she considered showering in them. By the time she hobbled into the shower, her mind was attempting to drift off.

The water woke her, soothed her aches, stimulated the circulation of blood. Shame and embarrassment would come later, for now, she soaked in this calm patch of time that belonged to her.

She walked out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around her body, and searched the room for Sazh. There was a noise from her bedroom. Lightning ducked in to find Sazh resting her gunblade to the side.

"Sorry to intrude." Sazh rubbed the back of his neck, the picture of uncomfortable. "You look much better," he tried with an offbeat chuckle. He stepped around her to leave, but stopped, picking up a garment from atop her dresser. "Isn't this…?"

"He lent it to me." Lightning took it back from Sazh, held it between her hands. It was clean, folded, ready to be returned to an owner that was no longer there.

"It was from his mother," Sazh said. Lightning dropped it, feeling like just her touch intruded on something personal. The bandana sunk to the floor. Sazh bent down, crouching as he took it back into his hands. His fingers threaded through the fringe. "She gave it to him for his fourteenth birthday, not long before... If he let you hold onto it, then…"

"I had no idea."

"Who knew that kid, the youngest of us, could have ended up bein' so strong. He helped us in more ways than he knows, that's for sure." He set the cloth back down on the dresser, giving it a final brush with his fingertips. "Look, Lightning, you gotta stop this. You aren't gonna find him if you're dead. What happened out there?"

"How'd you find me?"

Sazh crossed his arms, clicking his tongue. "You were gone for a while. It was seven when I decided to hunt for you. I called Alyssa and asked her to locate you for me. I figured with you bein' so close, I woulda met you on the way there. But I found ya where she said you were. It was a good thing I came for ya too 'cause-"

"Thank you, Sazh."

Sazh calmed his stance.

"I'm going to try and get my act together, but if we- If the search gets canceled, I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Yeah," Sazh made his way to the door, pausing on his way out, "I don't know what I'm gonna do either."

* * *

"I'm glad to see that you haven't started yet," a man said as he entered, "The traffic is horrendous."

Lightning, Sazh, Nivien, Hildough, Rygdea, and Amodar sat at an oval-shaped meeting table, waiting until their last arrival took his seat. He was a pot-bellied man, older, with short brown hair that was reminiscent of Bartholomew's. His beard was neatly trimmed in a circle around his mouth. Wire-framed glasses sat low on his nose. His expensive, well-tailored suit and the scowl on his face put Lightning on guard.

Amodar nodded with a broad smile as the man sat. "It's nice of you to join us, Harleen. Now, the board has come to a decision. We," Amodar paused, gaze wary as it stretched over the heads around him, "will not be continuing the search for Director Estheim."

The fire ignited, burned Lightning all the way down to her toes. Her hand clenched onto the arm of her chair. Sazh quietly put his hand over hers, held her back from jumping up and causing a scene. Lightning ripped herself out of her own head, her own storm of feelings, and found that she was not alone in her devastation.

Rygdea had a dark look in his eyes, a deep loathing tweaking the corners of his lips. Nivien's head was in her hands. Hildough's eyes were drawn down, staring sullenly at his notes as his pen arced in idle circles. Amodar held a veiled look of hurt only visible in the strained creases near his eyes. Harleen looked... simply impatient.

"As much as I dislike giving in to these people," Amodar continued, "we have no choice. Our men are out there somewhere and if our compliance means their safe return, then I don't see another option. From what I've heard, these... l'Cie are powerful. We know little of their number or organizational strength. Our fighting power is limited here on Pulse, as is our number. One of our most skilled fighters with l'Cie experience was able to take on six of them and survive, but not without getting her share of injuries. Now, we aren't giving up on our director, not by any means. He is an exceptional young man who is indispensable to the operation of this city. He is a great leader and friend. We'll have to hope and pray that he is returned to us safely."

"This isn't fair," Nivien said, despair in her voice.

"La Salle?"

"To what end?" She dropped her hands to reveal tear tracks, a grief as bare and raw as Lightning had seen in the mirror. "What keeps them from giving us more demands? We're just supposed to trust their word? And fine, we end the search and they don't... kill them, but then what?!" She stood, slamming her hands on the table so hard that the wind disturbed Hildough's stack of notes. "How long will they keep them? Until they're finished doing whatever they want with Hope? When will that be? What happens when they're done with him? Do they just let him and my brother go and leave? To what end? Huh?!" Nivien shrank in on herself before she heaved a loud sniff, pulling herself strong. "Excuse me," she said before she slammed the door after her.

"That's why women shouldn't be involved in these matters," Harleen commented with a smirk. Lightning cut her gaze toward him, focusing her torrent of emotions into an assassin strike of a glare. "No offense, love."

"As much as we appreciate your presence, Mr. Harleen," Hildough said before Lightning could pounce on the man, "those comments are not appreciated."

"Right," Amodar agreed. "We are going to limit our trips out into Pulse, so they don't mistake our intentions. Meetings and trade with Sanctum City as well as transport for current construction shall be our limit."

Rygdea sat back in his chair, folding his hands on his chest. "So that means that most of our missions are being postponed?"

"Your current objective was," Amodar side-eyed Harleen, "Director Estheim's project. All future plans and discussions for that shall also be put on hold. Now, how is Mr. DeWald, the twenty-three year old mechanic? I know that he works under the Academy, but why was he deployed on the mission in the first place?"

"Hope or..." Sazh began, pausing as he reworked the words in his mouth, "uh, _Director Estheim_ worked closely with... Mr. DeWald, but Maqui... uh" He sighed, hunching his shoulders before he gave up on the professionalism. "Maqui went because he wanted to help search for Hope, but not just that. His main objective was to be there for ship maintenance. He is one of the best damn mechanics I know. I wouldn't have wanted anyone else for the job. Knowing the ship they were on, I'd say it was a good thing he was there. That thing has been in sore need of a fix or two."

"Mr. DeWald is fine," Rygdea said, "He's recovering and has given us his account. Useful information, as proven by the report."

Harleen fiddled with his cufflinks, displeasure in his sigh. "Yes, yes, this is all good and dandy. Now can we get on with more pressing matters? Hmmm? Like why you want my son to be the new director?

_New director?_ _They are going to… replace Hope?_

_Is he that much of a lost cause to you people?_

"It was Director Estheim's choice," Hildough stated, shuffling through his paperwork until he pulled up a typed document. "As director, he gets to pick his successor."

"So we're replacing one _child_ with another? And an even younger one to boot. I stood by and let this place be ruled by the young Estheim in respect to Bartholomew's wishes, but this is too much." Harleen gritted his teeth, scrubbing a hand over his cheek. "I won't allow it. He's my son and I say-"

"If I am correct," Hildough interjected, adjusting his glasses on his nose, "and I do believe that I am, the boy is emancipated. He gets to make any decision he wants. He already signed off on his consent when the director chose him."

"He's _seventeen_. My Maker, at least Estheim was legally an adult when he took over. I mean... this is insane."

"Ya talkin' about me?" All heads turned to find a young man standing against the doorframe. Not one of the group heard him enter. No knock, or bow, or anything. He just stood there, slouched against the wall, picking at his cuticles. Dark violet eyes peered through shaggy, unkempt locks. He looked every bit the teenager that he was, from his rumpled black and red striped, long sleeve shirt, to his faded, ripped jeans, to the clunky boots, to the casual slump of his shoulders. He held the very air of nonchalance.

Harleen drove his palm into his face. "I told you to wait at your apartment."

The kid shrugged. "And I told you that I wanted to go to the meeting. If I'm going to be the new director-"

"You're not," Harleen snapped. "Cassidy, you're too young and that's final."

"It's Cass. And it's not up to you." Cass gave his father a challenging smirk before joining the table. "Where were we?"

_Hope chose_ him _to take over his position. I've never even spoken with the kid and I already want to slap that smug smile off of his face._

"It's nice to see you out and about, Cass," greeted Sazh. "It's not often we see you in the light of day."

"Yeah, daylight isn't my most favorite thing in the world, but I'll do what I have to for Hope. Since my friend is being selfish and taking an unwarranted vacation, I guess I gotta fill in for him." Cass clunked his feet on the table, folding his arms behind his head.

Now Lightning really wanted to smack him.

Harleen shoved Cass's feet to the floor in a huff. "Do you really want _this_ ," he gestured to Cass with a horrified look, "running your city."

Amodar chuckled. Lightning was surprised by just how amused Amodar was. Lightning didn't like Harleen, she didn't trust one hair on his head, but she found herself just as appalled by the appointment. "From what I know of Cassidy, he's an intelligent young man, second only to the director himself. He seems, from his record anyway, to be a perfect candidate for the job. He has been chosen by Estheim and seems more than willing to step up to the plate. I see no problem with it. He shall be our director until Estheim is back in our midst and ready to reclaim his position. As long as Director Harleen-"

"It's Leonald." Cass shot a disgusted glance towards his father. "I took my mother's name."

"Right," Amodar coughed, "As long as Director Leonald doesn't fall behind on his duties, he should suit the position just fine. Director Estheim proved to be a worthy leader despite his age, I have no doubt that you will too."

"And who will protect him?" Harleen rose, pointing a finger at Cass. "Did you think about how dangerous this could be? They took Estheim _because_ of his position. What makes you think that they won't take you, too?"

"The reason for the director's abduction has yet to have been determined," Hildough said.

"Relax." Cass rolled his eyes before closing them and settling in like he was nestling down for a nap. "Don't worry so much. You already have a bazillion worry lines on your forehead. Haven't you been listening to sis?" Outrage bulged the veins in Harleen's forehead, his jaw clicking shut audibly. "I'll have bodyguards, right, General? I know Hope had them, although he hated it. Thoroughly."

"Yes," Harleen threw his glasses onto the table, "and look what good that did."

The glasses slid across, spinning until they stopped in front of Sazh. Cass' eyes were still closed, but he seemed familiar with the sound. "I don't think you need to break _another_ pair."

"I shall," Amodar began, the gears in his head turning before his gaze fell on Lightning.

_Oh no._

_Fuck, no._

"I shall assign Sergeant Farron as your personal guard. You'll still have the others, of course, but she won't leave your side for anything."

Lightning's eyes darted toward Amodar, but before she could speak, the General tilted his head, a warning in his eye that Lightning knew to yield to.

Harleen laughed bitterly. "Her? I'm sorry, but I don't think-"

"Alright." Cass said. He sat up, folding his arms on the table as he looked Lightning over.

Lightning couldn't believe it. Not only was she restricted from searching for Hope, but she was going to have to babysit some asshole kid who was impolite, unprofessional, and showed zero respect towards his father. Yes, Harleen was quite a dick himself, but he appeared to generally care about his son and his safety.

"She's perfect," Cass stated as he finished eyeing her. Harleen started to speak, but Cass held up a hand. "End of discussion. I'll be _protected_. Just be happy with that."

Harleen slammed his hand down on the table in front of his son. When Cass didn't move or look in his direction, he grabbed the collar of Cass' shirt. He yanked the kid out of his chair and threw him to the ground, forcing his gaze to meet him.

_Never mind_ , Lightning decided, _disrespect him all you want._ _Looks like the oppositional attitude isn't for nothing._

"Hey, now, Burien," Rygdea rose, "why don't you just... go take a breather?"

Hildough closed up his notes and put them inside his briefcase as he stood. "Yes, it is getting a little hot in here. I think some fresh air would be very beneficial. Please, do join me, Harleen." He walked over to the two, carefully stepping around a stunned Cass, and put his hand on Harleen's shoulder. Grumbling, the man nodded and left the room, followed by a sighing Hildough.

"That was fun." Cass climbed back into his chair, head ducked down, snubbing the concerned looks of the adults that remained in the room.

Amodar looked at Cass, sympathy rounding his eyes. "You will be starting your position tomorrow, but we need to handle the paperwork first, alright? If you could wait for me outside the room I'd appreciate it, Director Leonald."

"Yeah, sure. No problem." Lightning heard him mumble something inaudible as he left the room.

"Sir," Lightning swung her chair in Amodar's direction, "why am I being tasked with guarding the kid?"

The general scratched his chin, his go-to contemplative gesture. "Well, you are one of my finest soldiers and if they do go after Cassidy you're the only one with experience fighting them." He glanced at her with a serious look in his eyes, one that he hadn't used with her since he'd found out about her sister in the Bodhum incident. "I know that this isn't easy for you, Farron."

_Great, he knows. Of course he knows. Nivien briefed him on everything, didn't she? Even the adamantoise._

"You and the Director were- _are_ very close, but as we've said, the search has been canceled. Looking for him isn't an option. I figured that you would wish to stay on duty until he has returned."

_What else am I supposed to do?_ Really, Lightning hadn't given it much thought. The minute she'd lost Hope, her only objective was to find him and bring him home. Never in a million years would she have guessed that she would have to give up on him - which in her mind - that was exactly what they were doing. How would she continue from here? Going back to work seemed impossible, her position the furthest from her mind. But what other options were there? Stay at home and destroy everything in her apartment until there was nothing left to damage but herself? _I have no choice._ "Of course, sir."

The man gave her a proud smile before leaving the room.

"That all went incredibly well," commented Rygdea.

"You okay?" Sazh asked Lightning.

Lightning sidestepped the question. "Who is this Harleen guy? Why does he get any say in Academy matters?"

"He's a real piece of work is what he is."

Rygdea sat on the edge of the table, eyes gazing out the window, far into the horizon. "He's an adviser of the Academy. I've never liked the guy much, but he and Bartholomew were old friends from before the fall. Hope and Cass were best friends before it all, too."

_Hope… had friends?_ Lightning never quested the thought. Her idea of Hope was so intrinsically linked to their time as l'Cie that she didn't think about his life before their descent on the purge train. Lightning stared at the door, thinking on the kid that she had initially written off. He was Hope's friend. Another connection. A piece of his life that Lightning hadn't known.

She was beginning to understand just how little she knew about her l'Cie compatriots.

"So that's why he'd pick such a brat to take over his position."

"Yeah, he's got quite an attitude, but he is seventeen," Rygdea laughed, igniting a chuckle from Sazh and a small smile from Lightning. "He's been through some tough times. The General wasn't kidding either when he said that Cass is qualified. Besides the work ethic, the kid's a lot like Hope. There's an incredible mind inside of that ball of hormones."

"Good luck with him. He can be a bit much in large doses," Sazh said, stretching his arms up with a groan. "He should be used to having a gunblade pulled on him by the time this is all over with, huh?" He nudged Lightning, who could only pinch the skin between her eyes and ignore the teasing.

_Maker, Hope, I'm going to kill this kid. I just know it._

Lightning followed Rygdea's gaze, watched along the edges of their city, out into the wild. Hope was out there. Somewhere.

Lightning had to stop herself from laughing. It sounded like some sort of existential pep talk.

_Come back soon. You're strong, Hope. You can fight them. I just wish that I could be by your side fighting with you_.

* * *

Lightning stared at Hope's office door. She stood outside of his office, her eyes burning a hole into the wood, dread a sinkhole in her gut. It was her first day on the job as the director's personal guard, and she couldn't feel more agitated. It was only the third day since Hope's disappearance. Three days that he had been missing. Kidnapped. Gone. And Lightning had been relegated to the position of a glorified babysitter.

_What are you doing, Lightning? Where's the soldier that took on the world for her sister? Hope needs you._

_"They'll hurt those kids, Lightning. They're all just kids. People with families that are waiting just like you."_

Sazh's words buzzed around in her head.

_"Promise me that you won't rogue out on this. When Hope gets through this, and he_ will _get through this, he's going to need his soldier girl to welcome him home."_

Lightning had to think about more than just herself this time. She had to think about more than Hope. It physically pained her, but this was the best they could do. When the time was right, Lightning would be there for Hope. She would fight for him, protect him, keep him safe. But right now she had a job to do. If those people took Hope for his position, then Cass was a potential target, too. She needed to protect him, this boy, this friend of Hope's that he trusted a city to. And maybe, just maybe, if Cass was attacked, Lightning could find a way to take on these l'Cie from her current position.

Sucking up her anxiety, Lightning stepped inside. Cass was sitting at Hope's desk, reading a paper from the large stacks at his side. He glanced up towards her, that same smug smirk clicked in place. His grimy boots were up on Hope's desk, and it took everything in Lightning to not knock him out of that chair in a rendition of his father's rage.

"I figured you for the knocking type," Cass said, eyes zooming across the document in his hand.

"Why aren't you in uniform?" Lightning sat on the couch, ignoring the Hopes that tricked her vision. The one that sat beside her. The one that stood by the table, holding his clothes to his chest. The one that sat at the desk, chuckling as he penned his name.

Cass looked down at his garb, stuck his chin out. "I'm the director, so I call the shots. I get to decide if I should be in uniform or not." He shuddered as he eyed a uniform that was left hanging from the coat rack, cleaned, pressed and sealed in a dry cleaner bag. "And I most certainly am not. That uniform may work for Hope, and all of his girly friends may have cooed at the sight of him, but no thanks. I'm not the uniform type."

Lightning's eye twitched involuntarily. "I knew you weren't going to take this seriously."

"What, just 'cause I'm not wearing some dorky outfit? Or 'cause I don't have a stick up my ass like some snobby soldier?"

She glared at the little twerp who dared to say such things to her. The only people she would ever take jibes from were currently in stasis or missing. This kid didn't know her, he didn't get to judge her. Usually her incinerating glare would have its receiver gobbling back their words, but not this time. Cass sat there, feasting on her look like it was a five course meal. "You're a real brat, you know that?"

"Oh, c'mon, _Claire_ ," There was a glint in Cass' eye as he perched his chin in his hand. "Don't hold back on my account. Tell me how you really feel."

The shock broke through her expression before she could cover it. Nobody called her that. Nobody but Serah. It rattled Lightning, made her want to beat that punk until she smashed his smirk into his teeth.

"You can't really be surprised. I'm the director. I have access to everything. One of the first things I did was look into my personal guard's past. By the way, your sister is almost as hot as you are. Almost," Cass emphasized with a wink.

Lightning had her gunblade out and pricking the tip of Cass' nose within seconds. "Don't you ever talk about my sister," Lightning snarled, "you little prick."

He didn't flinch. He allowed her to walk right up to him and threaten him with death without as much as a twitch in self-defense. He waited, staring unconcerned at the edge of her weapon, almost daring her to take a chunk. She lowered her weapon, not because protecting him was her job - a few scratches could be overlooked - but because he was Hope's friend.

"Man," Cass wiped at the cut on his nose, sucked the blood off of his finger, "so far everything Hope has ever said about you has proven true."

He was testing her, Lightning knew, gauging her impatience, her reactions, her limits. It was behavior common in abuse victims. Lightning would know. She let him get under her skin. Because she was testing him, too.

Cass reached into the baggy pocket at the side of his jeans, pulling free a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

"Don't you dare," Lightning snapped. "This is Hope's office, not yours. You can't do whatever you want in here."

"Hope never minded." The cigarette dangled from his lips, the flame of his lighter changing the purple hue of his eyes into something darker. He took a long drink of the smoke, blew it out into a cloud. "The room's got ventilation. And like I said..." He stood and walked around the desk until he was three feet from the fuming soldier. "Hope doesn't care."

"I do." Lightning snatched the cigarette from his lips, snapped it in two. She pushed past him, shoving the butt into his can of soda. "And I don't believe you."

"You know he used to smoke, too?"

"Hope? Please."

"It was how he and Nivien met, actually. She bummed a cigarette off of him and... it was like love at first sight."

Cass was goading her on, now. It pissed her off, the fact that he knew how much of a sore spot Nivien was. She wasn't granting access to that one, though.

"So, you're the great Lightning Farron. You certainly live up to your terrifying reputation. I've heard a lot about you. You left quite an impression on our friend, though I'm not surprised in the least. You are every man's wet dream-"

"Enough," Lightning barked, scrunching up her nose as she reclaimed her seat. "You're a creep. I don't know what Hope sees in you." She settled her gunblade in her lap, focused her anger on weapon maintenance. "I certainly don't know how you've stayed friends for so long."

"That's easy. Your little saint and I actually have... well, _had_ a lot in common."

"Right. Don't you have paperwork to get through?"

"All done." Cass sat back in his chair, feet springing back up atop Alyssa's carefully constructed layout. His boots were inches from Hope's framed photo.

"It took me and Hope hours to get through a stack that thick."

"Hope's brilliant and awesome and all, but he thinks too much," Cass tapped a finger against his temple. Was it disturbing that she imagined his finger as a bullet? "A little signature here, a small scribble there, and we're done and ready for a nap."

"Did you bother to look at those documents or did you sign your merry signature on whatever you felt like?"

"Oh, Claire. I'm a professional. I gave them all a good once-over before signing. I'm not an idiot."

Lightning flicked her weapon into gun mode, trained it between his brows. "Call me that one more time and you'll have the shortest term as a leader on record." How she wished she could pull the trigger - to give in to her desire and follow through with her threat. But she couldn't, and his cocky grin showed her that he knew it, too.

"I love breaking records."

Lightning tossed her gunblade onto a neighboring cushion. "You like pissing people off, don't you? Look, I'll guard you, _protect_ you, but only if you shut your trap. I can be reassigned and leave you with a different guard if that's too much trouble."

Cass frowned, a petulant thing that looked far more for show than sincerity. "Fine. You're right. I should probably look back over these with a more thorough eye."

Despite every feeling in her body, Lightning found herself restraining a smile.

_Cocky brat._

* * *

He was choking on blood. It surged up his throat, garbling his cries. Hope coughed and gagged, barely able to breathe as his body attempted to dispel his blood like it was poison. The warm, iron-tasting liquid gushed into Hope's throat and he kept coughing, choking as it spurted and sprayed. He struggled, rolled his head to the side and tried to vomit it all out. His blood ran from his mouth like a faucet with the handle snapped off.

As he fought to clear his airway, the rest of his body screamed at his wounds. The continuous struggle to free himself left his ankles and wrists raw, layers of his skin peeling around his binds. His chest had had been slashed open, left untreated for what felt like weeks. The skin was blackening around a wound that was a festering yellow. His chest was burning and burning and it felt like his skin was being stretched apart until it was going to snap. Every breath surged pain through his body. The odor of rot hung in the air. Hope prayed that it wasn't from him. He didn't want to die. He couldn't die.

But he couldn't live like this.

Time felt like it had stilled. Hope had no idea how long it had been since he'd been taken. He didn't know how long it had been since this started. Zalera was no longer in his company. He assumed that she was locked up in a room much like his own. It was a somewhat comforting thought. Zalera was getting a break. She could rest while Hope took the brunt of Sebastian's attention. It was the least he could do. Who knew how long Zalera had been forced to endure this, left to feel nothing but loneliness and pain.

Hope struggled to breathe, coughing and coughing and coughing until his mind went hazy. He could feel himself slipping, staring up at glowing trees, a radiant blue that shimmered, and leaves falling like sparkling stars. The proto-ecology of the Gapra Whitewood. The blue began to swirl, morphed into crystal forms.

Snow. Sazh. Dajh. Serah. Lightning.

They were all around him. Crystallized in the middle of a field. Snow drifted from the sky, settled atop their figures. Hope tried to shove the snow off, jumping to knock off all he could until his skin was pink and burning.

It was burning. Festering. Oozing. Yellow and green and black. He tried to rub warmth back into his fingers, but the skin sloughed off, leaving nothing but crystallized bones.

Hope screamed. He collapsed to the ground, staring as the crystal began to crawl up his body. He couldn't stop it. No matter what he couldn't-

He was encased in crystal. Paralyzed. Locked in a crystal tomb. Was he going to die in there?

Hope struggled. He shook and wrestled and beat his body against the crystal until it shattered. A thousand sparkling fragments. Hope fell onto something soft, a cushion that he could sleep forever on. Except… it was pulsing. There was a beat, a _tump-tump_ that bounced Hope up and down. Uneasy, Hope climbed to his feet. There, in front of him, was Fang and Vanille. They were strung up, hanging by ropes or threads or…

Hope lost his footing, fell backwards as he stared up at the giant organ, veins stretching from Vanille and Fang's motionless bodies, pumping their blood, their life force, up and out.

Were they… feeding Cocoon?!

The reality sunk into Hope as he sunk down into the organ. It sucked him down like quicksand, a pink, slimy quicksand that coated his body in a grotesque mucus. It gobbled him up and Hope tried not to breathe, to swallow or inhale any of what he was swimming in.

It spat him out and Hope fell. Down from the sky. The wind whipped around him, a purple miasma circling his body. Like storm clouds, they huddled around Hope. Inside the purple puffs Hope could hear voices.

"Mom?"

"Dad?"

Hope called to them, stretching his hand out. But his touch went right through. There was no one there. There was never anyone there.

_"With me, it'll be fight after fight. I don't know how it'll end. It's anybody's guess."_

"Lightning?"

_"Call me Light."_

Hope smiled, closed his eyes

And fell.

Hope woke to a stabbing pain. Sebastian's knife was slipping through his decaying chest wound. Deeper and deeper. Hope clenched his teeth, screaming through the pain. Vomit rose as he felt the knife tickle against his spine. It stayed there, Sebastian's face watching, waiting. A surge of electricity was sent through the blade, down into Hope's body, lighting up his veins. Hope's heart stopped, and he was falling. No, he was in the dark chamber. Lightning was talking to him. No, Sebastian was smiling, twisting his knife until Hope couldn't breathe. The snow floated, tickled against his nose. No, blood was oozing from his chest. His limbs were going numb. He couldn't feel anything. Not his hands, his feet, his arms, his legs, his pulse. Nothing.

_When… will this… end?_

_"I don't know yet. But I do know we can't lose hope."_

_"Hope? There is no hope. Not for l'Cie."_

_"There's you."_


	10. Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time tightens the shackles, pain isn't so temporary, and faith is a slippery bastard.

_"Oh, Lightning. Just this once?" Serah pleaded, yanking on Lightning's arm. "Please? You used to do it all the time."_

_The beach was before them, sandy shores and rolling waves. The night was aglitter with stars, millions lighting up the sky, twinkling along the water's shimmering surface. Torches were lit, flames bopping along, as if they were roused by the music Serah had playing in the background. The campfire crackled, the orange glowing on the bright faces of their group._

_They were together again. Happy and whole._

_"What?!" Snow asked in that bombastic, dramatic tone that he loved to use, nearly falling off of his log with the force of his shock. "Lightning Farron, the terror to Bodhum's criminal underbelly used to dance? Man, now I gotta see."_

_"No one's seeing anything." Lightning crossed her arms, stepped herself back and away from the merry band of idiots._

_Vanille giggled as she swayed with the rhythm, her body effortlessly flowing to the song. "Aw, I'm sure you're a terrific dancer." Serah and Snow began dancing together beside her, both encouraging the girl with a nod. Vanille spun around, laughing as the fur on her hips fanned out around her. "Have some fun."_

_Fang clapped Lightning on the shoulder. "Yeah. Take a load off. No need to be stuffy and boring all the time, Sunshine." Fang leaned forward around Lightning. "You better get your little ass dancin' too, Hope."_

_Hope flinched before shrinking down into his spot. His smile was tight as he rubbed the back of his head. "No. That's alright. I don't dance." Vanille sashayed her way over to him, gripped onto his hands, and tried to pry him free of the log he was sitting on. "C'mon, guys. Is this really necessary?"_

_"Yup," Fang said as she pushed him from behind, sending him flying into Vanille's waiting arms._

_"We just saved the world." Snow twirled Serah around his finger, bringing her in to hold her close. "Heroes have a right to party too."_

_Sazh began to step along to the music, Dajh chuckling as he bounced around on his father's shoulders. "Just don't overdo it, Hero. I ain't gettin' your butt outta bed tomorrow."_

_"Claire, please? For me." Serah flickered her eyelashes, lip jutted out big and sad._

_"If I have to," Hope called, "then there's no way that you shouldn't have to, too."_

_"Tch," Lightning scoffed. Serah was still busy batting her eyelashes in her direction. It was comical as she had to bend around Snow's hulking form, her head popping out around him as they danced. "You're overdoing it, Serah, but alright."_

* * *

That world crumbled back into reality with the beeping of Lightning's alarm. She let it beep and beep and beep, staring at the ceiling, gripping onto her bedclothes with a steeled grip. She didn't want to get up. She didn't want to face another day.

Another day without Hope.

Lightning had always been an early riser. She didn't understand the appeal of sleeping in. There was only so much time in the day. Why waste it? But that part of Lightning seemed to have vanished. Up and left, trailing after Hope the way she couldn't. Helplessness froze her in place, left her hiding in her stasis dreams.

What was the point in getting up? Hope was gone. Serah was an imprisoned l'Cie.

Lightning could do nothing but wait as a week passed, time slipping through her frozen fingers.

Lightning waited, felt her patience wearing thin until she packed her things, stuffed her gunblade in her holster and was ready to stalk off to find Hope.

Her promise to Sazh kept her from leaving. She cursed the man, threw her bag against the wall and sat there. Her purpose had been taken from her time and time again. She couldn't protect Serah, or Hope. She found purpose in the search for the crystals, but even that had been shut down. Stolen from Lightning's grasp. Her resolve dried up.

It was hard waking, working, living on her own. She spent years shoving everyone away, and now all she wanted was to tug everyone back. Time hollowed out a space into Lightning's chest, left it bare and aching with something that she found difficult to live with. Loneliness. It was a poison that Lightning was used to, so much so that she had become desensitized to its power, immune to its bone-deep bite.

Or so she had thought.

Lightning pulled Hope's bandana from her pocket. Its wear and tear made Lightning think of the years Hope had spent in her position. He had been alone in this world. Left waiting. She couldn't imagine his pain, his loneliness, but she knew that he didn't let it swallow him. He never gave up hope, worked his way to the top, searched tirelessly for answers and formulated his own solutions. His conviction astounded Lightning. It flooded the space in her chest with admiration, helped her stand and face a day that seemed insurmountable.

She folded the bandana, her symbol of strength, into a tiny square, went to place it at Hope's boomerang's side on her dresser. She tucked it into her pocket instead. Wanted to keep even a piece of him at her side.

 _Stay strong, Hope,_ Lightning sent her thoughts out into the world, guided them toward him as her hand patted against her pocket. _You'll get through this. I have faith in you._

* * *

Hope could only watch. Sebastian pinned Zalera's hand in place. Her thumb was stretched out from the rest of her fingers, his knife held up above it. A guillotine at the ready. Zalera stared at the knife, something sinking into her expression and Hope could tell that Zalera knew what was about to happen.

 _Please don't_ , Hope thought until he was saying it. Over and over because he couldn't watch this. Sebastian couldn't do this.

Zalera looked over at Hope, _smiling_ and Hope didn't know how Zalera found her courage in that moment. "Just remember, Hope." She turned back, facing Sebastian and his blade. "Pain is only temporary."

The knife swung down, striking the stone with a chop, leaving Zalera's thumb severed.

Zalera screamed. She screamed and cried as her blood spurted and pooled toward its missing piece. "It's only… t-temporary," she insisted, smile stiff, warbled, but surviving.

Sebastian's grin was wider, stretched with sadistic glee. "Temporary, she says. We haven't gotten to the best part, Hope. What's worse than losing a part of your body, Zalera?" Sebastian tapped his knife against Zalera's chin.

Her smile shrunk back into her face, pulled into the black hole that was terror. "No. No, I don't want it back. D-Don't. I don't need it. I don't need it!"

Zalera's words became frantic, syllables rushed together until she was an unintelligible mess. Hope didn't understand. She didn't want what back? What could possibly be worse than an amputation? Another one?

Sebastian tucked his knife back into his robes. He held his hand over Zalera's stomach, shoved his fingers into her skin, that familiar glow pulsing through Zalera as he answered his own question. "Growing it back."

A scream wrenched itself out of Zalera, shrill and piercing, louder than Hope had ever heard her. Her body stiffened, muscles tensed as she stretched herself taught with pain. There was a squelching sound, and Hope turned his attention to Zalera's hand, watched with a mix of fascination and horror as a bone began to protrude through severed flesh. It grew back, every centimeter of bone tearing harsher and harsher screams from Zalera's throat. Muscle and veins spun around the bone, weaving together and Hope closed his eyes as the skin began to sew it all into place. It was disgusting to watch and any elation Hope might have felt as Zalera was rewarded with her thumb back sunk with her suffering.

Zalera was out by the time her thumb was returned to her. Sebastian pulled his hand back, revealing black veins that webbed from the imprints of his fingers. They stretched up Zalera's body, faint as they were limited to her torso.

Sebastian picked up Zalera's old thumb, inspected it in his hold, and flicked it to the side like trash. Sebastian drew his knife, his smile reflected in the blade's shine and Hope couldn't breathe. He began to hyperventilate, breath in and out, in and out, in and out, but it was too thin. He couldn't bring in air and Sebastian was standing over him, the tip of his knife circling Hope's kneecap.

"We have to be careful not to kill you," Sebastian said, but it was like Hope was hearing him from beneath water. "My timing of healing has to be just right. Too much stimulation and you'll go into shock, lose consciousness, but I think I can keep you roused through the thick of it."

 _Pain is only temporary_ , Hope told himself, holding onto that sentiment like a life preserver that he could clip around himself, keeping him afloat.

The knife was poised just below his knee and Hope had a brief flash of attachment. He wanted to keep his leg. This one. He wanted to keep his body whole, known. It was his body, the only one gifted to him in this world.

Hope's mind began to turn, realizing that it wasn't going to be that brief spike of pain that it was for Zalera. Her thumb was chopped off in a second's pass. His leg was like a log in comparison.

" _Just remember: Pain is only temporary."_

_Pain is only temporary_

_Pain is only temporary_

_Pain is only temporary_

_Pain is only temporary. Pain is only temporary. Pain is only temporary. Pain is only temporary. Pain is only temporary._

It was a mantra in Hope's head, a practice in meditation and endurance as the knife sawed through his skin and veins and ligaments and muscle and bone and Hope was screaming and screaming but it wouldn't stop.

_PainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryPainisonlytemporaryIt'sonlytemporaryIt'sonlytemporaryIt'sonlytemporaryIt'sonlytemporaryIt'sonlytemporaryIt'sonlytemporaryIt'sonlytemporaryIt'stemporaryIt'stemporaryIt'stemporaryIt'stemporaryIt'stemporaryIt'stemporaryIt'stemporaryIt'stemporaryIt'stemporary_

_IT'S TEMPORARY_

Something so temporary, never felt so permanent.

* * *

Zalera stared at her new thumb, bent it up and down, swirled it around in its socket. It was pink and smooth, unmarred by hair or scars. Her nail was gone, left to grow back on its own.

It wasn't the first time that a piece of her body had been taken from her only to be grown back like she was a worm or a reptile. She lost her hand before. The bastard had used it against Yeul. Held her severed hand to Yeul's face, caressing her cheek with it until Yeul started to sob.

Zalera sneered up at the ceiling, past it and into the divine cosmos. _Why are you so cruel?_

It was one of the few questions that Zalera asked the gods throughout her life. Why would the Maker and all of the gods let these things happen? Why did good, innocent people have to die to get their attention? Zalera hated them. She hated the gods and she hoped that they knew it.

Zalera spent her life questioning their existence. She had been subjected to lectures upon lectures by her fellow tribesman as they attempted to force their beliefs down her throat. She didn't believe in any of their reasonings, their proof as thin as water as they talked of almighty beings that were beyond true comprehension. Despite that, Zalera knew that she believed in their existence, for how could a person hate something that they didn't believe in?

She didn't want to believe in them. Believing showed some semblance of faith, and she'd be damned before she would show any of them anything akin to faith. They took everything from her. Left her lost, pitiless. She had no family. No home. She made a new life for herself, only to have it mutilated and murdered.

Zalera knew that the gods didn't care for her, so why should she care for them?

She once thought herself naïve.

It took her until her first hunt to realize that it wasn't just her. Suffering was not a curse limited to her alone. It was a blight on humanity, endlessly inflicting grief and agony and hatred. Bhunivelze, Pulse, Lindzei, Etro - they didn't care, never lent a hand to end it, only prolonged and exacerbated the suffering with plagues and conflict and l'Cie servitude. They didn't give a damn about humans. Those respected and worshiped deities sat atop their perches and watched the little beings with uncaring eyes.

Zalera constantly found herself asking them why.

_Why?_

_Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?!_

It didn't matter. It didn't matter why the gods never helped, why they never put an end to the ruthless violence. All that mattered was that the suffering happened. Asking why never did any good. _So why? Why do I still ask? I know that it doesn't matter. They don't listen to a word I say. So why ask these questions when all I'll receive is silence?_

_Because there's nothing else for me to do._

Talking to the gods was about as helpful as talking to the wall, but it was preferable to listening to Hope Estheim's cries. They penetrated through the walls, into her head, sinking her soul. Such anguish. Such despair. Zalera knew that feeling. Hope's screams seemed to feed those feelings, as if she were suffering right beside him. She tried to pull them out, yank out those feelings that bled into her core. She smacked herself, tore at her hair until she was holding matted clumps, and smashed her head into the wall until she slumped to the floor.

_How much longer can I live like this?_

Zalera knew that she would have been better off dead than having to live through this. Yet death eluded her, danced into her reach before it would flit away. Back to its caverns where it took her charge.

_Yeul…_

Zalera loved Yeul with her heart and soul. She swore to protect her, not because it was her duty, but because Yeul was her blessing. A blessing that she lost. Zalera failed to protect her. It was her job, her purpose. Zalera wanted more than anything to be able to blame the gods for her failure, but it wasn't true.

She could only blame herself.

Zalera was laying on her cell floor when the door opened. The lights glowed on the walls, and Zalera remembered how Yeul's daisies used to glow just like them. The memory lit rebellion back into her heart, and as a rough, vile hand brushed against her thigh, she kicked one of Castea's lackeys in the throat. He stumbled back, choking as his hands rushed to his neck. Zalera leapt up from her spot, running toward the door. A hand sprang out from around the corner, seized her by the neck and held her there. Zalera struggled, kicking the air until she was tossed back into her cell.

"Ugh!" Zalera hit the ground, her body rolling into the wall. The man grinned down at her, blocking the exit with his bulky frame. The other one recovered from her kick with a last cough, standing to look down at her. She couldn't see his expression in the dark of her room, but that just made him appear all the more menacing.

"Damn, girly. I swear, one day, I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson about how to properly greet a man." He yanked her up by the tangled strands of her hair, pulled her body against his as he fondled her breast.

"Pig," Zalera seethed, jabbing an elbow into his face, once in the nose, once in the eye, until he dropped her.

Zalera tried to stand, but gravity hugged her to the floor. Her vision was patchy. She could feel blood seeping down her temple, pooling behind her ear. She must have knocked her head into the wall successfully enough to threaten her consciousness.

"Alright. Fun's over," the man in the hall said before pulling her along. Zalera resisted no more, stumbling in his hold, tripping as she tried to keep up until her feet were dragging beneath her. The rest was a hazy blur.

_She was sitting on a log beside Yeul, watching the firelight turn Yeul's hair purple._

_She was running, choking on the smoke, her parents' blood marking her trail._

_She was staring up at a man, all in purple. Her savior._

Zalera felt her wrists and ankles being strangled. Heard the leather crunching as it was tightened.

_Yeul gave her a daisy. Placed it in her hair._

_"It suits you. Like it's in a field of green. Home," Yeul said, twirling another daisy between her fingers._

_Zalera was too stunned to respond, watched the fire burn itself out instead._

_Yeul stood. Zalera turned, had a response on the tip of her tongue._

Yeul wasn't there.

Hope was there.

The haze cleared and Zalera wanted to hide herself inside of it again. The sight froze Zalera all the way down to her toes. Hope looked worse than dead. The movement of his chest seemed a trick and she couldn't believe that he was still alive. Skin had been fileted off of his chest and stomach. Dried blood trailed a path from his mouth down to his chest, a flood that had shriveled up. His left arm had been burnt until it was crisp. The smell of fried skin hung in the air. Black veins wound beneath Hope's skin, turned the tips of his fingers and toes dark.

"Oh, god," Zalera found herself saying as she noticed that one of his pant legs had been cut off from the knee down. The exposed leg was pink and smooth, unmarred by hair or scars. She couldn't see his toenails, but she would have been willing to bet her store of golden nuggets that they were gone. Zalera wrenched her gaze away. It fell to the floor, found Hope's discarded leg instead.

"Oh, god!"

Zalera knew those wounds, that pain. It was still present in her body, sensations so vivid that she would never forget them. It made the visual worse, hammered the nails into her conscience. _It's all my fault._ Zalera wept with that thought, let the truth flood out of her.

When the tears ceased, Zalera shook herself, steeling her gaze as she brought it back to Hope. They were alone in the room. It felt like they were the only two people in existence. Adrift on some unknown plane.

Sinking into hell.

"Hope," Zalera whispered. "Hope, wake up."

Hope's face scrunched, muscles in his body twitching. The skin along his arm made a cracking noise that caused Zalera to cringe, and the blood began to run down his chest with the sudden influx of breath. Panic jerked Hope into action, made him scream silently into the air, his mouth stretched so far that it looked like his jaw would unhinge.

"Don't! Don't move."

Hope's wild and terrified eyes fled to Zalera. She held his gaze, caressed it into something of a calm. Hope opened his mouth only to begin coughing, black spraying out, gushing faster than Zalera had ever seen. She didn't know what to do, her hands moving to help, but they couldn't. She was bound. Helpless. "Hey!" she yelled. "Sebast-" She stopped mid-call, her heart thundering in her chest. _This is a way out._ Zalera didn't want Hope to die. He didn't deserve death. This wasn't supposed to be his destiny. Yeul didn't want this outcome. Zalera didn't want to drown in any more blood.

Yet a twisted happiness splintered its way into Zalera's heart. It would end for Hope. He would be granted a freedom that she couldn't attain. No more anguish. No more despair.

Castea and her god would lose their tool.

It would be over.

Zalera remained silent. Hope choked and choked. His blood gurgled in his throat like the bubbling of a cooking pot. His eyes bulged. His fists clenched. His movements slowed.

_I'm sorry. Just a little longer and you'll be free._

The light was fading from his eyes.

He would have been freed.

Sebastian's steps thundered toward them. Hope's body began to glow a bright, bright green. The choking stopped. His wounds began to seal, the dead skin of his arm sloughing off as new growth enveloped his limb. His eyelids fluttered closed. Hope was healed in the nick of time, but his veins grew thick.

Sebastian wiped his brow before sending a scathing look Zalera's way. "Just like with the girl, eh? You were going to let him die just as you would have let Yeul?"

"I'm not the stupid oaf who was careless enough to leave him in such a condition." A fire burned behind the man's eyes as he grabbed Zalera's wrist and snapped it. She screamed out, her arm limply thudding to her side. Zalera tried not to look at the white, jagged edge of her bone. Instead, she jut her chin in Hope's' direction. "Don't... you d-dare blame me for the close call. Your master's plan would have ended in f-failure because of you!"

"You little-" Sebastian went for her hand again, but was halted by Castea.

"Stop." He spun around to face her. "The girl is right, after all."

Zalera felt the soothing warmth as Castea healed her, screeching as her hand snapped back into place.

"Lady Hidon, I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"That's two times now, Sebastian. The girl I let slide, but he is too important."

There was a harsh whap of skin on skin, and Zalera looked up from her reconnected hand to have her suspicions confirmed.

Sebastian had been slapped. Punished.

"Hope is our key," Castea said, pointing a stern finger. "I won't have you ruin everything that we have built."

"Maybe you should do your own dirty work then," Zalera spat.

Castea smiled mischievously, walking toward her. "Aren't we a feisty one today? You know that's not a bad suggestion… Thirsty for a mind game or two?"

"No!" Zalera shouted, screamed, begged. Castea's hand descended down toward her head. It was huge, as large and menacing as Cocoon in the sky. It wouldn't stop. Her fingertips brushed against Zalera's forehead.

Zalera's mind went black.

It flickered as images took shape. _Yeul. Yeul screaming. Yeul crying. Yeul bleeding and struggling and praying and it wouldn't stop._ Yeul's torture was being replayed for Zalera in flashes. It was unfocused, memories scattered and disorganized. The chaos made Zalera scream. The content made her want to die.

It wasn't all of Yeul.

There were memories of Zalera's home. _A village._ _A dragon statue towering high above her head. Her parents. Blood._

_A silver-haired boy that she didn't recognize, so young, crying out into the darkness. A wheel with a cherub face. Cocoon plummeting. Crystal fragments merging together. Hope holding it in his hands. Chaos weaving around him._

_A platinum blonde child, her eyes glowing silver. A crown on her head. A laugh. Merry and young._

_A woman. Castea. Crying. Raging. Killing._

Then nothing.

* * *

"I don't give a shit about how Hope ran things. He's not here."

Lightning hesitated in her approach towards Hope's office. The door was closed, but the voices within were loud enough to penetrate through it and echo throughout the hall. It was the usual morning greeting that Lightning received - an argument between Cass and Alyssa that she would have to defuse, but she was considering turning on her heel and calling in sick. She wasn't in the mood for any of this anymore.

"Ugh, you're infuriating. I can't stand you!" Alyssa yelled. "You have no business being in his position."

"Back up and keep your snooty snout out of my business. You're Hope's assistant. Not mine. Take a vacation. Transfer to a new department. Jump off a bridge. I don't care. Just get out of my face."

"As much as I despise it, I am the director's assistant regardless of who holds the position."

There was a flutter of papers, and Lightning could imagine two scenarios. Alyssa just threw her hands up in the air, paperwork be damned. Or Cass threw his own paperwork in her face. Lightning didn't particularly care as to what the actual events were, she just knew that she needed to corral the toddlers into a pen before something drastic happened.

_Lord, how did I get stuck with clean up duty?_

Neither Alyssa nor Cass were easy to handle. Both of them together stirred up enough trouble to make Lightning wish that she was dealing with actual children instead of these two. When Lightning opened the door, she found her earlier guesses hadn't been too far off of the mark. There were papers scattered underfoot. Cass was standing on top of his desk, holding a file up in the air away from Alyssa who was practically climbing up his body to reach it.

"Do I need to put the two of you in a time out?"

The two startled, Lightning's voice unbalancing them from their precarious position. Cass slipped, falling backwards onto the floor, the file smacking down onto his face. Alyssa tipped the other way, plopping into Hope's desk chair with a yelp.

Cass propped himself up on his elbows, the file slipping down onto his stomach as he righted the beanie on his head. "Lightning, can you get this madwoman out of here? I can't work with-"

" _Madwoman_?! I am not- Just give me the briefing. I need to do my job. Surely you understand, Light?"

Cass shot the soldier a look of desperation. "Get this bitch off of my back. You're my bodyguard. Protect me before this woman stabs her clicky little pen in my neck."

Alyssa narrowed her eyes at him, clicking her pen menacingly in his direction. "Oh, I would aim for something far more precious to you than your neck." Cass' hands rushed to cover his crotch, and Alyssa smirked.

"First of all," Lightning began, "don't call me Light. Second of all, she is your assistant and she has a job to do. Let her do it." Lightning snatched the folder from Cass, tossing it over into Alyssa's lap. "Third of all, I will stab both of you with that pen if you don't quit bickering like an old married couple."

"As if I would ever marry tiny tits over there."

Alyssa stood, folder hugged to her chest as she stuck her tongue out at Cass. "But Director Estheim," Alyssa said to Lightning, "calls you Light."

Cass chuckled as he pulled himself to his feet. "I don't think that pet name is meant to be used by anyone but Hope. If you catch-" Cass moved just in time for a book, aimed at his face, to hit him in the shoulder instead. "Damn. What kind of bodyguard are you? Maybe Hope wasn't abducted. He just ran away from y-" This time he ducked, the next book flying over his head.

"Remember the agreement," Lightning growled. "Your lips stay zipped, Cass."

Alyssa shot Cass a triumphant smile as she waved the prize of their fight in the air. "Please do keep it up, Director Leonald. Just a few more minutes of comments like those, and you'll be in the hospital in no time." Alyssa bounced her way out of the room, humming down the hallway.

Cass fell into his chair, exasperated. "Maker, how does Hope put up with that shrill voice and constant perky attitude? Do you know what that file contained? I-"

Lightning shot him a look, a reminder.

"Alright, alright, fine. Who wants to talk to the hot, bitchy, soldier girl anyway?" He ducked as another book flew in his direction.

* * *

Hope wouldn't look at it. He told himself not to look, no matter what. Not at the new leg freshly birthed from l'Cie magic. Not at the decaying one laying on the ground. It didn't matter. He could smell it rotting there. He could feel the stretch of new flesh on his body. Hope felt broken, his body hastily glued back together only for it to be shattered again. A monster held more authenticity than Hope did, now a frankensteined mess. He wondered if he would ever feel whole again.

There was tar in his body, his veins popped up under his skin as they writhed like snakes. Hope's body felt stiff, limbs weighted down like dead branches. It was the black sludge that Zalera had before, Hope suspected. Whatever they put inside of him was sucking the life out of his body. It squirmed inside of his veins, climbed across his skin. Hope stared at it, the black of his veins, the purple of his fingers and toes.

"It's called Maguria," Zalera said. She roused herself from sleep, eyes bloodshot and bleeding.

"You're awake. Are… Are you okay?"

"I don't know." She looked down the length of her body, eyes squinted. "I can't focus on anything up close. I can see you just fine. Must be whatever Castea did after I-" Her lips sealed, curling back toward her teeth. Hope couldn't make much out of her expression, a veil falling over a brief flash of fear. Her head thumped back down to the table as she said, "I'm sorry."

He couldn't tell who she was talking to. Hope? Yeul? Castea? Herself?

"Do you remember… the last time that you were awake?" Caution coated Zalera's voice, her eyes skirting from torch to torch.

"The last thing I remember is losing my-" Hope looked. He scrunched his eyes shut, tried to eradicate the image of his zombified limb. "I think I lost consciousness when this was growing back. I don't remember anything else."

The breath Zalera blew was a hiss through her teeth. "Good. Okay. It's… better if you forget. You can only have so much mental fortitude. If your mind breaks down… we'll be in trouble."

"What if I-"

"No. Don't think about it."

Hope chose to rewind his thoughts despite how curiosity cat-scratched at the walls of his brain. Hope would learn from Zalera, sponge up whatever tips she was willing to give him. Her strength was her weapon. Hope would use it to build one of his own. "What is Maguria?"

The black had disappeared from Zalera's body, but she still looked back down at herself, eyes narrowed. "It's a sickness brought on by an excess of magic circulating in the bloodstream. The body treats it like a poison, tries to expel it. When it can't, it builds up. Makes you feel as dead as wood."

"I've healed others and been healed countless times. Yet I've never witnessed something like this."

"It takes a significant amount of magic to induce it. Healing a terminal illness. Prolonging life to someone on the brink of death. In our case, drowning and burning and electrocuting us and then healing it all up is taking its toll.

"In the old days, they used to celebrate people who contracted Maguria. They thought that the afflicted were blessed by the powers of the gods. Even as the sickness led to death. They were revered as saints, their lives thought to have been given as divine tribute in exchange for being bestowed with the gods' brilliance upon Earth.

"Advances in civilization as well as an increase in the l'Cie population brought knowledge. They learned the truth - that it was a disease brought about by an overdose of l'Cie magic."

"Death, huh?" Hope's voice sounded hollow in his own ears. Death used to be terrifying for Hope. He imagined falling into a blackness, falling and falling until he was forgotten. He imagined a bright, swallowing pain lighting up his chest, and everything he was disappeared in an instant. Death was no longer a monster hiding in his closet. "It can't always lead to death. I mean, you're okay and you had it."

Zalera laughed a mirthless, sarcastic laugh. "We could only be so lucky. I don't know how they do it. They have a way of expelling it by force." Zalera turned her head toward him, her eyes so red that it seemed like every vein in her eyeballs had popped. "It hurts."

Hope laughed, too.

Because everything hurt.

Hope could still feel the sawing motion of the blade. He could feel the bone of his leg breaking through severed flesh like a hatching chick as it freed itself, cracking open its shell. The phantom pains were many, but his newest were the freshest, ugliest ones in his body.

It hurt. Hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt. He couldn't stop it. Not with struggling or tears or pleas that fell on deaf ears. So Hope retreated back into his mind.

_He found himself standing in a field, back to the day that he had first woken from stasis. The snow was up to his knees. He couldn't breathe, the air sharp with cold. He stared up at his crystalized companions. They surrounded him, a museum of l'Cie that had yet to break free of their fate. Hope unwound the scarf from his neck, reached up to drape it around Lightning's crystal shoulders._

" _I should have listened to you. Now I can't bring Serah back to you. I can't protect you. If Sebastian hurt you… I won't be able to see you again. I'll never be able to tell you."_

The tears ran fiercely down Hope's face, but he held in every sob that threatened to break from his throat. He wanted to bask in happy memories. To think of his mother's smile as she traced the marks on his bandana. To think of his father's warmth in that hug, one that felt real for the first time. To think of the radiance of Vanille's laugh. To think of the confidence in Fang's gait. To think of the honesty in Sazh's words. To think of the bravery in Snow's actions. To think of the strength that Lightning gifted to him.

But every memory led down the same path. One of regret, remorse, and hopelessness.

"Zalera?" Hope asked, inserting himself back into reality. "What happens if my brand never comes back?"

"I-"

"I mean, they said that it had never been accomplished before- Maybe... M-Maybe th-thats because it can't be done."

"I'm not sure, Hope. I don't think that there are any easy answers to that question, even if I had one. All I know is that," Zalera curled her hand into a fist, tugged against her bind, "they will do everything in their power to reawaken your brand."

"I'll do everything in my power to stop them. I won't allow them to banish everything in this world. I most certainly will not be their instrument in calling for its destruction." Hope finished strong, utilizing every last bit of his energy to fortify his conviction.

Zalera looked stunned, and then tears began to roll down her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she said in a whimpered breath.

"For what?"

"I failed. My failure is what led them to Yeul, to her death, to you. My weakness brought us here."

Hope shook his head, tried to catch Zalera's gaze because she was wronger than wrong. Her guilt was misplaced and Hope couldn't let despair squash her strength. "No, they would have gotten to her no matter your strength or capabilities. These people are strong, organized, determined. Zalera-"

"No," she stabbed the word down his throat, collapsing his resolve. "Don't you dare try to tell me that this isn't my fault! You weren't there. You don't know what happened. It's my fault. It is!"

"Fine. But I refuse to let you burden yourself with my share in the responsibility. No one is responsible for my capture except me. I-I didn't listen and I should have been more careful. We may have had a shot at defeating them and avoiding... this if I hadn't been so reckless. I didn't take my position seriously. I didn't take my _life_ seriously. Lightning told me-"

"Lightning is your guardian?" Zalera asked. "You are to her what Yeul is to me," she said as Hope struggled to respond.

"Yeah. I suppose so. Although that may be the other way around."

The anger drained from her face. "Yeul used to have visions of the two of you. They told of your future and your past. Yeul spoke of a brave young man who overcame his grief and fear to embrace his destiny of fighting his fate. How he would become a savior of mankind. She said that there was a woman at your side. A strong, independent, yet partially broken young woman who fought to protect you at any cost."

Hope understood then just how similar his and Lightning's bond was to Yeul and Zalera's. A part of him would always resent his part of the equation. Was there no future where Hope would be able to protect Lightning?

"Your destinies are locked tightly together, Hope. Some of Yeul's visions brought her great sorrow. She was a compassionate person, the gravity of certain futures breaking fragments of her apart. She cared deeply for every creature on this planet." There was a depth to Zalera's voice, an awe that spoke volumes, and Hope wondered if he wasn't more like Zalera than Yeul. "Even though you were a complete stranger, she felt your pain in her chest. She was glad that you had a protector to watch out for you like she had me."

Hope gave Zalera a moment. Or maybe it was for himself, his thoughts jumbled. "Did she," he asked, his tongue suddenly as heavy as his limbs, "see the outcome of all of this."

"She saw many possibilities. Two were most prominent. In one... you destroy everything and everyone using the power of the crystal, obliterating everything to nothing as you summon the Maker back to this world."

Hope felt every muscle inside of him collapse in defeat. His struggles were pointless, only suited to prolong the world's agony. _We should have just let Orphan have its way._

"In the other… You are able to overpower the crystal and save all life on this Earth, but... it... kills you in the process."

_There's no good ending for me._

"Hope." Hope's attention snapped back to Zalera, finding a smile that renewed his strength once more. "Those were only two possibilities. Yeul always said that there were possible outcomes that even she couldn't predict. An infinite number of paths lay before you. Only you get to choose where you go from here."

"Thank you," he replied, nodding a pseudo-bow. "I'm very sorry, Zalera... for your loss. Yeul seemed like a wonderful person and I wish that I could have met her."

Her face contorted with pain. "If we hadn't have been taken to this damned ark, I-"

"We're in an ark?"

"Yes," she said in a rush of breath. "We're in the Eighth Ark."

"The Eighth Ark? We've never-"

"That's because it's hidden. The entire facility is under ground except for the entrance which is tucked away in a cavernous mountainside. You can't find it unless you're looking for it."

 _No one's coming for me,_ Hope realized.

_I'm going to have to fight this battle myself._

* * *

"Damn you, Castea," Barsilisk barked, slamming a fist down in front of her, "It has been over two months now! This is getting us nowhere. You assured me that Sebastian could get this done."

There was a time when such an enraged action would have caused Castea to cower at her husband's feet. Castea glanced at his fist, then up at his frustrated expression. "What did you expect? This is a difficult task, perhaps our most difficult yet. The boy is fighting tooth and nail against us. It will take time, but in the end we will come out victorious."

Barsilisk grabbed her by the arm, ripping her from her seat until they were face to face. "This isn't a game, Castea. These are people's lives that you are toying with, a future that you are playing for." Castea sneered down at his hold, and he jumped back before she could throw any reprisals his way. Regret flashed across his face, rippling his trench of a scar. He stared at his hand like it had gone rogue before he ran it down his face. "I'm tired of all of this."

"Watch how you speak to me, Barsilisk. I am not pleased with the time that this is taking either, but we must remain patient."

"I am not a patient man."

Castea stabbed Barsilisk with a look. It pinned him to the floor. His weariness morphed into panic as she neared, and Castea loved that look on him. She didn't have to use magic on the man to freeze him in place. Fear was a marvelous weapon. "Shall I remind you," Castea closed in, her lips brushing over his as her fingertips caressed his temples, "of how to properly treat a wife?" Her grip tightened, summoning just a touch of her power.

Barsilisk smiled, sweetening as he took Castea's wrists tenderly into his hands, pulling them away to rest on his chest. "Like a queen, my dear." He pressed his lips to her forehead. "My one and only queen."

Castea hummed, impressed by the impeccable façade that Barsilisk slipped into. She could almost fool herself into thinking that it was genuine. "I shall try my hand at it."

Castea joined Sebastian down in the keep. Zalera was absent, still recovering in her cell. Hope was strapped down, his eyes flickering as he stared up at the ceiling. "Enjoying yourself?" she asked.

Sebastian straightened up, bowing toward her hastily. "Tis my job, Lady Hidon."

"Nothing wrong with enjoying your job." Castea brushed the bangs from his eyes, uncovering the shame that dusted his cheeks.

"Death… is a fascinating thing. I want to know what is on the other side. What lies between life and death? Snip the thread and a person dies. Thin the thread, until it is a sliver, barely held together, and they open a door to something unknown."

Sebastian held up his knife, and Castea could see herself in it. She wasn't sure who the true owner of that blade was. Who took responsibility for this mad fixation that possessed Sebastian? "It will not remain unknown for much longer. Raise your head, Sebastian. I will be spending some time with the boy. Leave us alone until I send for you. Are we clear?"

"Of course."

Hope didn't appear to notice the switch between her and Sebastian. He didn't seem capable of noticing anything in his state. His gaze was dull, stained with resignation. It was the same look that the little seeress had when she submitted to their wishes. Sebastian's treatment was doing well. Castea need only enhance his fatalistic outlook, shatter any notion of rebellion. "Giving up already?"

Desert-dry lips moved to croak out, "I won't... ever... give up."

"Good, because I was about to think that this was going to be no fun."

"I've… had enough of your fun."

"How about an update then?" Castea grinned, tapping her fingertips together with mischievous excitement. "Academia seems to be in good hands. Your position has been filled. Its populace hardly seems stirred by your disappearance."

That one stung. She watched his flinch, the tensing of his muscles. Castea fed off of his pain, drank in the sadness that he attempted to hide.

"They gave up on you. You were never their leader, their compatriot, their friend. This is where lonely Hope was always meant to be. Right here. Changing the world."

"I don't believe you."

"Cassidy Leonald. He is quite the… charmer, isn't he? He stepped into your shoes. He has your city," Castea leaned in, her lips ghosting the rim of his ear, "and your guardian as his protector."

Hope's resistance shattered. He looked at Castea like she was the bringer of providence. "Lightning?" he asked, and it was too good, too precious. Castea wove her hands into his hair, petted through it.

"Surely you hadn't believed Sebastian. Your lovely and fierce Lightning is far too much for him. She is alive and currently guarding your replacement." She stared at his face, watching it twitch and move with an aggressive storm of feelings. _How expressive you are, Hope…_

"Good. I'm… glad. Progress shouldn't be halted by the loss of a leader."

"Lying is unhealthy. Especially when your lies are aimed inward. You feel betrayed, belittled. No one cares about you. Lightning-"

"Save your breath." There was a command in his tone, and Castea found herself astounded by his resolve. "If you're trying to diminish my faith in my people, don't. It's a waste of time." He yanked his head from her grip, but Castea clung to the very tips of his hair, held him in place.

It angered her, this resolve, this faith. It was blinding, warping the future in front of her eyes.

"I'm only telling you the truth," Castea laughed. "Everyone has forgotten Director Estheim. Lightning has a new charge to take care of now."

"No," Hope insisted, "I know them. They wouldn't forget or replace me. Spin all of the tales you want, no one's listening."

"Fine, I was just apprising you of what you have missed." She pulled harder on Hope's hair between her fingers. "But don't get the idea that you can snap at me."

"Or what? You're going to send Sebastian in here? Go ahead." Hope jerked his head up, too fast for Castea to process, and bit down onto her finger.

Castea winced, yanking her hand back as her skin peeled between his teeth. Blood dribbled from the track of teeth marks on her finger. Hope spat toward the floor, face screwed up.

"So you think I'm just a bitch with all bark and no bite, huh?" Castea sat upon the wooden chair, fingers tugging at the laces of her boots. "You would be wrong, Love." She stood and undid the clasps of her cloak. It fell to the ground, leaving her body exposed to his eyes. "Wouldn't want to get blood on my robe now, would we?"

Hope didn't look at her, cast his gaze to the corner of the room.

"You can look, my pet. This isn't going to be pleasant so you should take all the pleasure you can while you can." She ran her hand up Hope's chest, laid it to rest on his cheek.

"What makes you think that your body could pleasure me," Hope said, his teeth clenched tightly and Castea could see the disgust, the rejection.

She couldn't control her reaction, the white hot rage that built into an explosion. _Nobody denies me. Nobody._ Castea sunk her nails into Hope's throat, piercing right through, her hand clenching until Hope was coughing back his resistance.

Castea's smile grew. She could feel the wicked rush in her cheeks. "You think that these past months have been tough? You haven't even begun to feel pain."

Castea dug herself into Hope's mind. That was her arena. Hope could barely put up a fight.

"Time to teach you a lesson, you silly, silly boy."

* * *

"You know you want it~" Cass said, holding up a slice hovering it under Lightning's nose.

They were at a pizza joint a few blocks from the Academy building since Cass had insisted on pizza for lunch. Twelve of his guards kept watch from the outside. As the director's personal guard, Lightning had the privilege of joining him at his table, needing to be within six feet of him at all times. He ordered three pizzas, all of them with an outlandish array of toppings. Lightning didn't order anything, despite Cass' insistence.

"Here. I'll feed it to you." Cass leaned over the table, pizza prodding into her space. "It'll be like we're on a date."

Lightning shoved the pizza away and it smacked back into Cass' face. That… hadn't been her intention. The slice slid down to plop onto the table, revealing Cass' stunned face that was splattered with grease and sauce.

"It's almost an improvement," Lightning joked.

Cass sat back in his seat, reaching for a napkin. "I could have you fired for that."

"Please do. I'll welcome the end of this babysitting gig."

Cass grumbled something as he wiped at his face.

Lightning's gaze wandered out the window, roaming across Academia's streets. It was a normal day like any other. Sunshine. Happy faces. Busy workers. Clogged traffic. Life continued, even as the city's leader was still missing.

Gone. Abducted.

_Two months. It's been over two months. It's been sixty-eight days. Am I the only one who still thinks of him? Am I the only one being choked by his absence?_

_He could be dead. The search team taken as leverage could be dead. What happens if they are? Will we never know?_

_Will I never get to see him again?_

"None of us could have imagined that he would be gone this long."

Lightning looked back at Cass, found him nibbling on the end of a slice that he sprinkled with sour gummy worms. "What?"

"Hope. I thought- I thought that it would be a week, maybe two, at most. We would get demands or a ransom notice. The GC would find him and those other dudes through the origin of the transmission or some clues in the message. The abductors would be the Sanctum, because, _of course_. The GC would send in a covert unit. Kick some ass. Rescue Hope. The end. Like a video game."

"A video game…" Lightning reached into her pouch under the table, held Hope's bandana in her hand. "I was never one to play those."

"You're missing out." Cass took a bite, the cheese stringing between his mouth and the pizza as he chewed. "My point is, we don't know how much longer we'll be working together. Any longer and you're going to storm the castle, I'm sure. Even if you don't know which castle to storm."

"Damn straight."

"I know that I can be a real asshole sometimes-"

"Sometimes?"

"Okay. Most of the time. I'll own that." Cass rubbed at his cheek, frowning before looking at his hand. "I thought I got it all."

"Nope. Unfortunately your face is still there."

"Har. Har. My point that I'm _trying_ to make is that we will be in these positions for an indefinite amount of time. We might as well act civil. Become more like colleagues. Or friends."

Lightning looked back over Cass, his grease-stained shirt and candy-covered pizza. He was an obnoxious brat with no respect for authority. He knew how to get under her skin and fester there like a boil. Ahead of all of that, he was her responsibility.

He was Hope's choice to lead his city.

He was Hope's friend.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Cass asked, then began choking on his food. He recovered, and Lightning wasn't sure if she was relieved or not.

_Do friends let friends choke to death on pizza?_

She was probably better off without friends.

"Okay," Cass said again, smiling to himself and nodding. "What's it going to cost me?"

"Excuse me?"

"You know. What's your fee?"

"Am I a prostitute now?"

Cass choked again, though there was no food in his mouth. "Sorry," Cass coughed. "Images. I don't mean gil, though I will happily oblige if that's what you're into." Cass waggled his brow, making a lewd suction sound through his straw.

"Keep it up. I'll stick that straw so far up your nose that you won't remember your own name."

"Right. No, thank you. I've been a douche. I figured I could make up for it. Give you a break, request a second guard, take a vow of silence for a few days-"

"A year would be nice."

"-do something embarrassing and demeaning-"

"That would be a treat."

"-share some stories about Hope, go on a date with Alyssa-"

"Wait. What was that last one?"

Cass cringed, sinking in his seat and thunking his head down onto the table. "Please don't make me go on a date with Alyssa."

"No. Before that. About Hope."

"Oh." Cass sprang back up, beaming. "I knew that you couldn't resist that one."

"Straw, meet brain," Lightning deadpanned.

Cass' smirk shrunk. He eyed his straw warily and pushed his drink toward the window. "Uh… ehm. Anything specific?"

Lightning shook her head.

"'kay. Let's see… I met Hope when I was six. He was nine. We were neighborhood buds. I mean our fathers were close, but that didn't mean dick since my mother was a mistress and I was a bastard mistake, but that's neither here nor there. We hung out at home, sometimes even at school. Remember when I told you that we had a lot in common? We were both exceptionally smart, awkwardly shy, and had girlish looks. We weren't winning any popularity contests. In fact, we were bullied quite a lot."

Lightning thought back to when she first met Hope, his form cowering behind Vanille. His timid nature. Blaming the world for his problems. She wished that she had treated him better. His world had been bleak enough from the start.

"Hope would ward off some of my bullies when he could, take my beatings when he couldn't... I couldn't help with any of his, though."

"Why didn't your parents do anything?"

Cass scoffed. "My father had his own family, his wife and daughter. My mom worked all the time, trying to support us. I didn't want to bother her with it. Hope's mom was sympathetic, but was drowned out by Bartholomew. He told Hope to be tough. If he stayed strong and defended himself, they would leave him alone. What a load of bull shit. I think he just didn't want to give Hope the time."

Lightning bit down on the side of her cheek, her disapproval drawing blood. Bartholomew seemed like a loving father, but Lightning had only seen him when he was grieving and repentant, when he had almost lost everything. He neglected Hope, but Lightning feared there being more to the story than that. "Your father abuses you, doesn't he?"

"It was that obvious, huh?" He shrugged, baffling Lightning. She didn't know how someone could be so apathetic to their own abuse. "It's not too often, but I don't see the guy much. I avoid him. Got emancipated so I could live on my own."

"Did Hope's father..." Her nails dug into the sides of her arms. The thought caused her mind to run through their time at Hope's house, picking apart every detail of his home, their interaction. Should she not have recommended that they stop there in Palumpolum? She could plead ignorance, but if she caused Hope more pain after he had already faced so much, she didn't think that she could forgive herself.

"If he did, Hope never told me. Bartholomew worked every hour of the day, so maybe that was a blessing. Nora was pretty submissive, but I don't think that she would have allowed that."

Lightning relaxed, the guilt prickling her heart withering. "What was Hope like before the whole... l'Cie thing?"

"Pretty much the same nice, gentle guy you know now, only much shyer and much more of a loner. He was a mama's boy. Hell, I was too. He had a few good friends through the years, but he wasn't Mr. Charismatic like he is now. Not even close." Cass shook his head, chuckling, but Lightning could see something underlying the humor. A glint of anger. Jealousy, perhaps? "He didn't feel the need to save and change the world. I mean, yeah, he loved helping people, but he was the 'fly under the radar' type. It wasn't until after the fall that he grew into some sort of superhero comlex. I suppose after saving the world once, he wanted to continue saving it."

"And after he woke up? While we were in stasis?"

"He was a bit depressed. About you all… for a while. But he focused on helping people adjust, built houses and got things running. He delved deep into his studies when he joined the Academy. I swear he was a total book worm. He still plays the violin, which-"

"Hope plays the violin?"

"Yeah, he's really good. His mom taught him when he was... _seven_?" Cass seemed to guess, scrunching up his face and looking up at the ceiling. "Until, well, the purge..."

"Not sure?" Lightning teased. She gave in and stole a slice of Cass' pizza. The edible one. A gesture of acceptance toward this new friendship. Or something like that. "I thought that you were the Hope expert."

"Yeah, no," Cass insisted. "That would be Alyssa. She's the Helga to his Arnold, I swear."

"The who to who?"

"Don't tell me that you've never seen _Hey Arnold_. Man, I need to take a day and educate you on the finer things in life."

"Joy. I can't wait."

* * *

 _Make it stop. Make it stop._ Please _, make it stop._

Zalera sat atop her mattress, hands pulling and tugging and ripping out her hair, fingers clawing marks into her scalp.

Hope was screaming. His screams ricocheted around her cell like bullets waiting to pierce her ears. Each one struck harder than the last, buried deeper. She didn't think that she could take much more of this. She didn't think that _he_ could take much more of this. He sounded worse than he ever had before – his pitch, the frequency and duration of his screams.

His screams spoke of hell.

Zalera thought that she had already seen hell. Stared into its depths as it burnt away her soul.

Another anguished cry rattled her cage, made her let out her own frustrated cry in response.

She couldn't do it again. She couldn't let another person suffer.

She didn't care about the world, she just wanted this to end.

_I can't do anything for you, Hope. I can't-_

Zalera slowly pulled her hands from her hair, staring down at dirt-crusted skin and bloodied nails. The hands that failed Yeul could save another. She just had to believe. She brought her hands up in front of her chest, folded in her middle and fourth fingers, crossed her index fingers, crossed her pinkies, and bowed her head. She drew a long, suffering breath, closed her eyes, and prayed.

_I have no reason to believe that this will work. That's why they call it faith, right? I'm supposed to just believe in you and your divine will. I'm sorry. I know that I sound skeptical. I am skeptical. I hate you. I will forever hate you. But this isn't about me. This is about that man down there. He deserves a future. He deserves your intervention. Please. You let Yeul die. You let her suffer until her last breath even as she served you with every breath she had. The least you can do is help Hope. Let him rest. You can redeem yourselves. Show me that there is a reason to believe in you._

_Let him die._

Zalera dropped her hands. She waited. She waited and waited, but Hope's screams continued. The one time that Zalera begged for silence, she didn't receive it.

"You're evil, wicked creatures!" Zalera yelled toward the ceiling. Her hands sunk into the holes of her mattress, tearing away at its fabric and stuffing. She threw handfuls of it at the ceiling, cursing at the gods as she did. "How dare you make me believe! How dare you make me hope! I hate you! You hear me?! I hate you!"

* * *

"The pain cleanses you of your humanity," Castea said, her voice gentle and coaxing. "Let it. Open the door. Cast away this physical plane, embrace his enlightenment. Embrace his power."

Hope could feel her hands crawling around inside of his chest. Her fingers plucked along his veins, knocked against his ribs. She healed him, sealing his skin around her hands. She wouldn't let him die. She wouldn't let him pass out. He felt every movement of hers, even as his breathing would stagger, or his vision would flicker in and out.

Hope wanted it to end. He wanted to die. He couldn't fight any longer. He gave in to the desire to die. He was a coward. He was weak and useless. He didn't care. He wanted out. As his eyes rolled back into his head, Castea scraping her nails against his lungs, Hope begged for death. He prayed to Bhunivelze, to Pulse, to Lindzei, to Etro, to everything and anything to let him die.

"Hope?"

He cried and thrashed as Castea ripped a hand out of his chest. Her finger came up, black with his blood, and caressed the side of his face. Her face wasn't like Sebastian's, not crazed with delight, it was determined, focused. She kept glancing at his side only to look back at him with a frown.

"You know what I'm going to have to do soon, Hope?" Castea sunk her hand down deeper into his chest, and Hope felt everything in his body jump, surge into hyper drive. "If this doesn't start working sometime soon, I'm going to have to get Lightning in here. I think Sebastian would have a lovely time with her."

Hope stopped breathing. He couldn't feel anything. Even as Castea's fingers curled around his heart.

"Think about it, Hope. Sebastian stabbing her... burning her... shocking her... bringing her close to death... time... after time... after time."

"N-n-no," Hope whispered, his tongue throbbing so badly that it practically flopped in his mouth. _You can't have her. Don't touch her._

"Think about it."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes~"

"No!"

"Yes!" Castea hissed. Her arm twisted and there was a shot of pure, unfiltered pain.

Hope felt like his heart was collapsing. The walls were closing in. It was being squeezed and twisted and Hope screamed, "No!"

It ignited a power in Hope. A yellow glow emanated from his skin. It pulsed around him, growing until it burst in an explosion of light, sending Castea flying from his sight. His wrist began to burn, a searing pain that he recognized. _No. No. No._ "No. No. No. You can't! Stop!" His chest wound began to sew itself shut. Something shifted inside of Hope and he turned his head just in time to spew out his blood.

He puked and puked until his blood ran red. Then all Hope could feel was the burning, as if a needle was searing a tattoo into his bone. His wrist was glowing, brighter, blinding, a familiar shape forming.

_No._

_Please don't do this._

"Please."


	11. Empowered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freedom is on the horizon, a bond is forged, and a secret begins to unravel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My chapters feel… annoyingly lengthy. I may be biased in that opinion. I am inflicting the suffering of editing hundreds of thousands of words on myself.
> 
> Should I… chop them up?

_Hope was waiting for him outside of school. Just like he always was. The dork had graduated to middle school, entered the big leagues, and yet he was still there to walk Cass home. What an idiot._

_What a friend._

_Cass hoisted his bag up higher on his shoulders, approaching the idiot with a grin. "So, have you asked her out yet?"_

_A light rouge tinted Hope's cheeks as he slammed his book shut. "Why are you out early?" Hope asked as he quickly collected his things. He began walking towards their neighborhood, avoiding Cass' probing eye._

_"I have my ways. You of all people know that."_

_Hope laughed. "_ _You already have your teacher wrapped around your finger, don't you?"_

_"Eh. Her pity gets me perks. There has to be some kind of upside to spending my morning fishing my homework out of the toilet,"Cass muttered before shaking off his disgust. "Anyway. C'mon, did you?" Cass widened his eyes, pinched his brow, and jutted his lip out_ just _a touch in the way that got to his teachers._

_"Cass, I invented that look. You know full well that I didn't."_

_"Why not? I told you she likes you. I'm her little brother. Getting into her things and finding out every detail about her is my job. I know she likes you~" Cass whined, tugging on Hope's jacket, then his wrist because Hope_ had _to believe him. "If it's because you think my intel is-"_

_"I believe you."_

_Cass let go, scampering after Hope's quick strides while hefting his backpack higher on his shoulders. "Then why not? I know that you like her." He raised an eyebrow, giving his friend a knowing look as he jabbed his elbow into Hope's side._

_"That's not that hard to figure out. Everyone likes Kori." Cass opened his mouth only to have Hope clasp a hand over it. "Just forget it, Cass. Even if she's interested, she could never go out with someone like me. It would ruin her reputation. Besides, why do you want us together so badly?"_

_"I-I know that... she likes you and... you like her so... Plus you're not like the absolute imbeciles that she dates. You're my best friend... I know you... I can trust you with Kori. I just-"_

_"Well, it's not gonna happen, all right?" Hope kicked at a rock, his shoulders slumped and Cass knew to back off. "Can we just drop it?"_

_"Fine," Cass sighed. They began walking down an alley on their usual route home. The din of the outside dimmed as the alley seemed to stretch into forever. It grew dark and dreary in the shadowed blind spot of the sun._

_It was the perfect place for an ambush._

_There was a shrill whistle from up ahead before, "Hey, Estheim? You and your girlfriend out for a stroll?"_

Dex _, Cass recognized, Hope's biggest bully. Two of his cronies bracketed his sides with Dex's younger brother, Karter, grinning in front of them. Karter was in Cass' class this year, had taken enough cues from his brother to know how to make someone who felt small feel minuscule. He stole Cass' homework that morning, copied down the answers and flushed Cass' work when he was finished._

_The pudgy ring leader stepped forward, smacking his fist into his hand._

_"Cass," Hope said and Cass looked up as Hope paled, green eyes jumping from boy to boy, "run."_

_"What?"_

_Hope didn't answer. He shoved at Cass' chest, made him fall onto his backside as his backpack timbered him over. The group approached, snickering. Cass could hear the smacks of Dex's fist growing louder, closer, the sound amplified by his fear._

_Cass could feel the punches, the swelling of the bruises, a premonition guided by the past. He didn't want to leave Hope, but he did. He shut his eyes against his own cowardice, turned tail and ran. He bolted, finding his way to a dumpster that he could hide beneath. His small body slid under with little resistence, though he found himself gagging at the overflow of trash he slipped himself into. He made it under just in time to see the four surround Hope._

_"Go after the little punk," Dex ordered, patting his brother forward._

_"No," Hope stepped in front of Karter, "it's me you want, Dex." He could no longer see Hope's face, but he could hear how scared his friend was by the_ _high tenor_ _of his voice. Hope's leg was shaking. The rest of his body stood strong, but that was a tell that Hope couldn't hide. "You really want to pick on a kid half your size and three years younger than you? I mean, really... p-picking on a fourth grader? W-What kind of message does that send? That you can only beat up" Hope was cut off by a punch to the cheek. The blow whipped Hope's head to the side, almost threw him to the ground, but Hope found his footing._

_Dex shook the pain from his hand before poking a finger into Hope's chest. "You wanna take the twerp's punishment too, huh? Is that what you're saying?"_

_"Why can't you leave us alo-" Another punch, but this time Hope fell. He landed in the arms of Dex's flunkies. They laughed, pushing Hope back up on his feet._

_"I asked you a question."_

_"Yeah, he asked you a question," Karter said, mimicking his brother as he balled up a fist and smacked it into his palm._

No _, Cass thought, his breath catching as he watched resignation droop Hope's head low, his body bracing for a beating._

_"Yes," Hope muttered._

_Dex's eyebrow rose as he bent himself to Hope's height, peering to meet Hope's gaze. "I can't hear you." But Cass knew that he had. Dex took off his token blue baseball cap and flipped it around, as he always did before kicking the snot out of an innocent kid._

_"Yes."_

_Just after the words fell from his lips, Dex kneed Hope in the stomach. Hope hunched over, his face meeting that same knee before the force flung Hope backwards onto the ground._

_Cass watched from under the dumpster, feeling as slimy and disgusting as the container keeping him sheltered. Hope's body met the concrete and the four pounced on him, kicking and punching Hope from all directions. Cass couldn't keep track of the blows, couldn't see through the huddled mass. The boys laughed, egged each other on, called Hope names that Cass didn't even understand. But Hope didn't fight back. He didn't cry for help. He made no sound. Not a cry or a grunt or a groan._

_Minutes ticked by, the incessant taunting and laughter lessening, and the punks grew tired, panting in their victory. "Shows you, Estheim. I knew you were a wimp." Dex spat on Hope's face before wiping his brow and turning his hat back around. "You may have saved that spineless nobody today, but you say anything and we'll pummel him tomorrow." They took off the way they came, cackling as they fled on their waiting bicycles._

_Cass waited until he could no longer hear them. He scrambled out from his hiding spot and ran to Hope. He was sprawled out on the dusty concrete, his eyes closed, one swollen shut, and his breathing labored. Cass touched a hand to his savior's arm, hoping to elicit a conscious response. Hope groaned as he stirred. "Hope! Hope, are you all right?"_

_"Yeah, I'm f-fine," was Hope's mumbled reply. He sat up slowly, movements lethargic, but his eyes alert._

_Cass bunched his sleeve in his hand, used it to wipe at the glob of spit on Hope's cheek. "Don't worry. They're gone."_

_"Help me... up."_

_Cass ran beneath Hope's arm, used whatever leg muscle he had to push them both up. Cass was too small, even for Hope's stature, and Hope ended up chuckling, leaning an elbow down on Cass' head with a smile that said, 'That'll do.'_

_"Thank you, Hope. I mean... really, thank you."_

_"It's..." Hope coughed, spitting to the side. Cass' eyes widened as he saw red dribbling from Hope's mouth. "...okay, Cass. I'm fine. There's no need to cry."_

_"I'm not-" But Cass felt it, the burn of his eyelids, the warm tracks down his cheeks. He brushed his fingers along the trail, stared dumbfounded at the wetness. He tried not to cry harder. "Why didn't you fight back? Why didn't you at least try to?"_

_"Why would I?" Hope took his weight off of Cass, found an uneasy balance on his feet._

_"Because it's-"_

_"Violence doesn't solve violence. I don't want to hurt anyone, I just want to be left alone." Hope smiled with pink-lacquered teeth as he held his side. A champion even though he lost. "Let's get you home, Cass."_

_Hope began walking. All Cass could do was stare at his back. The sun's dying rays haloed around Hope's body, his silhouette a black giant in front of Cass._

You're like my brother, you know that? The big brother that I always wanted.

_"Thank you, Hope."_

_Cass scampered after him._

Snapping fingers cut into Cass' vision. He blinked away his reverie, staring back at Lightning. "What?" Cass focused back on his cereal, dunking his spoon into his bowl to find it empty. Oh.

"You were staring into space," Lightning said, looking down at his dishes then back at him with squinting eyes.

"Eh-heh. Yeah." Cass pushed his bowl away from himself, adjusting the beanie on his head. "I was remembering how heroic and utterly stupid our mutual friend can be."

There was a twinge in Lightning's cheeks, the minutest expression of pain or loss, that Cass could only see after crafting his own magnifying glass over the months that he'd spent with the woman. "Hope isn't stupid," Lightning said, settling herself in the chair across from him.

"Taking on four," Cass paused, holding up four fingers before bending one, "three and a half people to save me, isn't stupid?"

"That is a stupid thing to do. Who would save your ass?" Cass chuckled, because she had him there. Lightning's eyes fell to the table, burned a hole through it with her stare. "It's hard to believe. Hope spent much of our first days together tripping over his own feet. I wouldn't have thought him capable of putting up a fight in defense of himself. Stepping in to fight on someone else's behalf seems too outlandish."

"Hope had been in quite a few fights by that point, he just wasn't used to fighting back."

"You guys _are_ really close, huh?"

He shrugged, staring dully at the wall. "When we were younger, I worshiped Hope with an intensity approaching religious. He was my best friend, my role model and my big brother all wrapped into one. After everything and he woke up... he was... _mostly_ the same. He still treated me the same. Even tried to help me deal with the loss of my mother, her being locked in that crystal and all." Regret spun its web around Cass, made him feel constricted, tied down to that chair in his kitchen in his apartment. It made his ankle itch. "It didn't work. I try not to dwell, push the pain away from myself. Out of sight, out of mind. But Hope... He absorbs his pain. Takes it and makes it a part of him that he can use to make himself better."

The web tightened, and Cass could feel an inner part of himself struggle inside of it. A little fly struggling with all of its might, but the spider would always come to eat it.

"Well, now that we're all thoroughly depressed, let's shuffle off to the day job, shall we?"

* * *

_Please don't do this._

"Please."

His brand didn't listen. It kept coming, the sigil etching itself into his skin, brighter and hotter than ever before. Hope didn't know which was worse, the pain or the knowledge that he was going to become the destroyer of humanity. Hope thought back to Yeul, her face restful in death despite the horrors that she lived through. She went through too much fighting this fate. Giving Hope just a little more time. Applying her faith to his future like a bandage.

_I can't let this happen…_

He couldn't let everyone down. Not Yeul, or Zalera, or Sazh, or Lightning, or Maqui, or Rygdea, or any of his family waiting for him back in Academia. Hope watched his brand, tensed his body as he pushed all of his willpower against it. It was like a force from inside of himself, stirring, striking against the brand until it's forming pattern started to slow.

"You little maggot!" Castea yelled. She was back in her cloak, anger in her approach, but she couldn't reach him. His brand had encased him in an orb-shaped shield, a yellow cocoon that protected him from the outside. Castea beat her hands against it. "I won't allow this!" There was a flash of orange, blue, white. She was throwing spells against his shield. None of them worked.

It was the distraction that his brand needed to progress. Hope took his concentration off for a handful of seconds, and the brand reformed. It pulsed with sun-bright light, streaking red into Hope's eyes until he couldn't see. He couldn't feel any of his wounds. There was nothing but the feeling of his brand rampaging its energy through Hope's body.

_I can't… live like this…_

_Let it end._

_Let me go._

_"Hope!"_ A voice surfaced in his mind. A bright, cheery tone that Hope knew, but he couldn't focus on anything but his brand. _"Hope, hang on. Please!"_ Who could it have been?

Red hair. A laugh. The swing of her gait. Faith guiding her footsteps.

"Vanille?"

_"Yes! You need to-"_

Hope cried out at the intensity of the throbbing burn. His skin was melting, he could feel it dripping off of the bone. "I'm sorry, Vanille. I can't do-"

_"Nonsense."_

"Fang?"

_"Looks like I gotta knock some sense into that thick skull o'yours."_

Hope smiled. The relief he felt at hearing their voices, knowing that they were okay, was unparalleled. A jolt swiped the joy from him, left him shaking. His skin felt dry, crisping. His lips were chapping, bleeding at the creases. Sweat raced down his skin to puddle beneath him. It felt as though he was laying on the sun.

He was sinking into it. Being absorbed by its energy.

"I'm s-s-sorry," Hope croaked. "I can't live like this anymore."

_"Shut it," Fang snapped_. _"People need you. The world needs you. Snow, Dajh, Serah, Sazh, Lightning, they all need you."_

Hope's eyes fluttered closed as he felt the life draining from his body.

The brand ate up his energy. Left him bone dry in the middle of the sun.

Exhaustion waved its hand over him, and Hope gave in.

He could sleep.

He could finally let go.

_"We need you!"_ _Vanille cried._

Hope couldn't hear them anymore. He drifted in and out of consciousness, his body numb. Hope could see the brand's rays from behind his eyelids. He no longer feared it. It was a soothing light, a sunrise that cleared the callous darkness away.

"Don't anger me, Hope."

Castea's voice swooped in through the brightness, cut into his warm haze, let the darkness in.

"I _will_ get that Lightning Farron and strap her down. I will tear into her with a verocity like you have never seen. You hear me?! I will rip. her. open."

Hope's eyes snapped open. He couldn't feel anything, like he was seeing in from the outside, merely watching the goings on with nothing at stake. A being above all. The yellow barrier still protected him. He could see Sebastian and a hoard of other subordinates casting spells. The magic crackled along Hope's shield, sinking into its shell and the yellow got brighter. His eyes caught Castea, her wide grin turned manic.

_No! You won't ever take Light. I won't let you. You can't. I'll... I'll..._

Hope couldn't move a muscle. He wanted to cringe, fight, yell, do something, but whatever was keeping him safe from the pain and Castea was also crippling him. He couldn't do a damn thing. If this barrier didn't come down soon they would go after Lightning. Hope knew it wasn't an empty threat, but it was beyond his control.

Everything was beyond his control.

"Are you still watching out for her Hope?"

Hope could feel his heart beat back in his chest.

_"Lightning. I—me too. I mean, at least I'll try. I'll try to watch out for you, too."_

"I can't wait to hear her cries and screams echo throughout my halls," Castea said, speaking inches from the barrier. "Imagine her blood gushing from her skin and the pure agony in her expression. Think about it, Hope."

Hope stared over at Zalera's table. Lightning was on it, fighting against her binds, but her movements were weak. She was too pale, her veins black and writhing. Her struggles lessened until she was rendered still. Her light slowly faded, waves retreating into that ocean in her eyes that once seemed open, limitless.

It was too much.

Lightning was his hope, his home.

His salvation.

He lost her.

Despair crippled the last of his spirit. He was ready to surrender, let the world steer him along on his destined course.

A spark ignited in the embers of his soul. An awakening that drew a presence forward.

_Alexander?_

As if answering to his name, the Eidolon emerged from within Hope. The room quaked with his arrival, his form materializing above Hope. He shattered through the ceiling. Stones fell, walls crumbled. The ark was a large stronghold, but it was no match for the fortress that was Alexander. There were shouts and cries from around Hope, Castea's men being crushed in the rubble. It was then that Hope realized that his shield was gone. He could see Castea, the woman boxed in by the falling debris.

There was a thunderous crack above him and Hope watched as a chunk of stone hurtled toward him. Hope turned away, squeezing his eyes shut as he waited for death.

But it never came.

He opened one eye warily to see a giant hand hovering above him. Alexander held the chunks in his hand, threw them like they were skipping stones. One stone struck Sebastian in the chest, pinned him in the corner. The debris clouded the room with dust. Hope coughed as it agitated his lungs, stung his still sensitive eyes. "You think you made a big enough mess, big guy?" Hope laughed.

An excruciating pain pierced through Hope's side. Castea stabbed a dagger into him, met his gaze as she twisted it violently. She tore it out, quick and messy, and Hope didn't have a voice to shout with. She brought it under his chin, tapped it against the skin.

"I won't..." Castea's sentence dropped, and she visibly floundered for words. Hope wondered if there was ever a time when Castea had been rendered speechless. "You get rid of him or I swear-"

Hope laughed. It irritated her, as she pressed the dagger deeper into him, gritting her teeth. It caused Hope to laugh more. "You really don't... know how Eidolons work, do you?"

"Do it."

"What's wrong? Never had one before?"

"I said," Castea stood, knife above her head, ready to gouge it into Hope's chest, "do-"

There was a whoosh of air over Hope as Alexander swiped a hand over his table.

And Castea was gone. Her dagger clanged to the table beside his head.

Hope breathed, then gasped at the fleshy hole in his side. The coolness like a water's caress settled over the wound, sealing it up. A flame lit along one of the cuffs on Hope's wrists, singing it open. "Thank you," Hope said to Alexander, though the fortress was occupied. Without letting another moment pass, Hope snatched the dagger up and used it to cut the rest of his binds loose. His ankle sprang free, and Hope felt it – _freedom_ \- as he moved his wrists and ankles in circular motions. The motion brought Hope's gaze to his brand. The color was different, reminiscent of Fang's. Though hers held a snowy whiteness, Hope's was a crystalline blue.

Hope went to hop down from the table, achieved more of a sag as he fell to the ground. His legs were weak, barely capable of holding him up. His body ached as it moved, muscles stretching and flexing after weeks of forced dormancy. Hope used the table to prop himself up, stood tall and paused as he caught sight of Castea. She was a lump in a pile of rubble, limbs bent and broken. Hope wasn't sure how to process her death. Was it a victory? It left a foul taste in his mouth and he looked away just in time to see one of her nameless men approach.

The man swung an axe down. Hope skittered away from its descent, stumbling over rocks and rubble and pummeled bodies. The man was advancing on Hope, rage pulsing in his muscles. Hope had nothing. Not even the dagger that had been left on the table. Hope searched inside, delving into that well of magic that had been barren for too long

_If my brand and my Eidolon are back, then my magic is too. I just have to remember how to use it._

It was just another muscle that Hope had to remember how to flex. The man kept coming, snarling as he caught sight of Castea. Swallowing thickly, Hope raised his hand, flexing that muscle as best he could. A tingling teased its way up to his fingertips, set itself free as the flurry of a blizzard spell. Hope expected a ferocious freeze, the man to be blown back by a whirl of snow. Instead, it sputtered ice against the man's chest. He snickered, raising his own hand and Hope tripped, falling backwards onto the ground. Just as the l'Cie's hand glowed a frightful orange, the man was smashed by a stomp of Alexander's foot.

"You're a lifesaver."

_I have got to figure out my powers again. Alexander won't be able to stay long._ Grateful that the stairway was still accessible and intact, Hope bolted toward it, his eidolon crumbling the floor as he followed behind. Up the stairs, a right, a left, wait for the floor texture to change and turn left again. Utilizing his memory, Hope made it up to the floor of their cells. "Zalera?" Hope hissed, wary of any other enemies that may have been lurking. "Zalera? Can you hear me?" He felt along the doors of each cell as he passed. There were a staggering number of tiny, prison-like rooms. Hope could only wonder what their original purpose had been for. "It's Hope."

"Hope?!"

"Hey," Hope sped to her voice, speaking through the locked door. "I'm gonna get you out, okay?"

"How are you free? What happened? What's all of the ruckus? Where's-"

"Castea's dead. I'll explain in a minute." Hope held his hand over the lock and flexed his muscle once more. He thought of snow, icy peaks, the kind of cold that turned your skin blue and purple. Hope's fingertips breathed a frost across the lock. It was weak magic, but it managed to freeze the lock solid.

Hearing voices coming from the stairwell around the corner, Hope sent Alexander to take them out. _I have to hurry._ Hope kicked at the frozen lock, wincing at the sharp pain that the simple movement caused. The lock shattered on the fourth kick. "Yes! Okay. Let's get you out of here." He reached for the handle only to be grabbed from behind. He was pulled back and shoved into the opposite wall where another l'Cie trapped Hope by the neck. Meaty fingers dug into Hope's flesh, strangling the life out of him. He couldn't breathe, the bones in his neck cracking, ready to collapse. White began to spark across his vision, tiny fireworks bursting out.

"You think you are to kill us all and escape?!" the man yelled. His thumbs pushed harder into Hope's adam's apple, his bruising grip burning Hope's throat. There was a resounding clang, and the hands fell from him. Hope dropped to the ground beside a metal meal tray, gasping and holding his throat. A flash of green made Hope look up in time to watch as Zalera tackled the man from behind.

Hope focused on breathing, on banishing the crackling spots from his vision. Zalera was fighting back - kicking, hitting, and biting, but she wouldn't last long. Hope's hands scratched up the wall, trying to grab something to pull himself up. The man yanked Zalera from his back, tossed her body down the hall like a rag doll. He turned back to Hope who was ready with a thundaga that roared from his fingertips. It shot through the man, sent him to the floor where the force of the spell left a crater. The man's body twitched, but there was no life left in his movements.

Hope smiled down at his hand, feeling grateful and relieved and empowered. Until he saw Zalera. She was still on the ground, half sprawled out the way that she had landed. Realization shattered across her expression, fear settling at its side as she eyed his brand.

Hope held out a hand, ready for her to smack it away. She should run and hide. Kill him.

She took his hand, let him haul her up. Smoothing a hand over his forearm, she felt the marks as tears welled in her eyes. "They succeeded…" Her touch was gentle, careful. Like he was still a friend, not a monster.

"Yes, but we have to leave. Come on." He tugged her along behind him, but she dug her heels in.

"I can't. I don't deserve to go." Guilt shimmered along her eyelids. She looked at his brand, then back at the cells. "Just leave."

Hope took hold of her shoulders and shook her. He knew why she was doing this, but they didn't have time. "No, Zalera. I'm not leaving without you." Hope gripped onto her hand. It was the oddest sensation that stirred in his gut, produced by this brush of skin, a physical connection that he had been deprived of for so long. "Come on. Help me get out of here. I can't make it on my own."

Zalera's eyes flashed at that, and there was the protector that she was. Nothing could snuff that out. _Not even Yeul's death_ , Hope thought.

"Okay."

He smiled and followed after her. As they ascended to the floor above they met three men. Hope pushed Zalera behind him, held out his hand in the hopes of sending out a fira. Instead, he felt a surge of cold as a blizzaga shot out. The force of the spell threw Hope back into Zalera, sending them to the ground. When they managed to sit up, they were amazed at the sight. All three men were frozen solid.

_"Hope, I do not have much longer."_

It was Alexander, fighting above them on the first floor. His words snapped Hope back. "You okay?" Hope asked. Zalera's stunned expression remained as her gaze floated to Hope. He jumped up and grabbed her hand, pulling her up. She stood, but didn't move to follow him, her gaze travelling to the side. "Not this agai-"

"No. Look." The woman pointed and then ran toward a desk. Atop it was a pile of clothes, bags, weapons. Hope snatched out his gunblade and his academy coat. Zalera dug into the pile with frantic movements, tugged out a small, purple sack that was singed and torn. It was freckled with tiny, embroidered flowers.

"Yeul's?"

Zalera nodded, then pulled out a leather shoulder holster. Strapped into the backs were eight-pointed chakrams. Her method of fighting, Hope assumed. She began to strap it on.

"Wait." Hope watched the floor as he held up his jacket. "You… should put this on."

"Oh. Right. Sorry. It's been too long since I've been fully clothed, it seems." Zalera slipped the jacket on, then tightened her weapons into place on her back. "Let's go."

Alexander had beaten them to the first floor, the upper half of his body having emerged through the floors below. There was a mass of l'Cie underlings surrounding him, and it was a distraction they could use to slip free.

_"Go."_ Alexander said.

Hope grabbed Zalera and they sped toward the entrance. There were bulky stone doors ahead of them. They were almost free. Hope could feel it in his body, the adrenaline waning as the exit grew closer.

Hope reached for the doors, freedom on his mind. Zalera yelped behind him, her hand slipping out of his. He slid to a stop and turned to find Zalera on the ground. Her leg had a new scorch mark, deep and bloody and raw, the flesh of her calf open to the ligaments and muscle. Electrical currents skittered across her skin, zipped up her body to make her hair stand on end.

"Let's go," Hope tried to pull her up, but her leg wouldn't move.

"No. Just go."

Hope put her arm over his shoulder, leveraged her up. "We do this together."

"How touching."

A man walked towards them, Zalera's assailant, judging by the thunder spell crackling in his palm. Hope would have thought him just another henchman, but his robe was as white as Castea's.

" _Barsilisk_ ," Zalera hissed, her voice dripping with venom.

"You won't be leaving any time soon."

"I've got this." With an enraged shout, Zalera flung one of her chakrams toward the man. It was a clumsy throw, and Hope would have blamed it on her condition or the angle. But the minute Barsilisk side stepped the incoming projectile, Zalera had already sprung up and closed in on him. A diversion. Zalera swung her other chakram, slashing it in Barsilisk's direction before he could do more than hold an arm up. Her chakram came down, leaving a jagged red cut in his robe. It did little to slow him down. He countered with a fira into her stomach, an explosive blast that blew her back.

She hit the ground beside her matching weapon, grasping it as she pushed herself up. Her burnt leg was dragging, and she hissed as a piece of skin was left flapping. The sight kicked Hope back into gear. He was ready to attempt a cure, but Barsilisk kept attacking her. Shock after shock was sent through her until she flopped to the floor. Her chakrams clattered to the ground, out of reach.

"You were always more trouble than you were worth," Barsilisk spat. "Castea should have listened to me when I said you were expendable."

The electricity was still wrapped around Barsilisk, another spell being drawn as he stared Zalera down. It was like a guillotine in slow motion, a blade coming down on Zalera's neck. She couldn't take another shock. Hope drew up another spell, a waterga splashing like a wave into Barsilisk's back. He stood through it, the coiling energy from his thunder spell backfiring as the currents sparked back into his body. He shook off the jitters, turning toward Hope with a clenched jaw and a sopping ponytail.

"No, go!" Zalera yelled.

"I said it before and I'll say it again," Hope said, standing with his arm raised and ready despite danger signals flaring in his head, "I'm not leaving you."

The ground began to shake beneath his feet. Hope's head whipped around, spotting Alexander who was too far and busy to be the cause.

"I'll bring this whole place down before I let you escape." Hope looked back at Barsilisk, saw the telling glow of magic just before the ground spiked and began to give beneath his feet. "You have a purpose. I _must_ see that you fulfill it."

Hope bolted from his spot, trying to outpace the quake's path. He jumped, landing just outside of the crater that would have landed him four floors deep.

"Hope, watch out!"

He didn't notice that he had landed beneath Barsilisk's waiting hands.

Hope thought of using a protect, bravery, an attack spell, or using the gunblade he had at his side. But he watched.

Watched as shock overcame Barsilisk's face, blood dripping from the side of his mouth before he fell to the side, a chakram in his back.

Hope shook his head, dispelling his stun, before scrambling to Zalera's side. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Zalera pulled her injured leg toward her, tried to hold the skin together with her hand. "Agh! Etro. My anger must have been pushing me. I can't move it now."

Hope's hand hovered over the wound, magical energy wavering in his hand. His magic wasn't right. It was weak and unpredictable. Could he trust that he wouldn't harm her, instead of help her. "Can you stand?"

She attempted to get up, leveraging herself on his shoulder. Something snapped, loud enough for Hope to hear, and Zalera screamed as she fell back against him. "No. No, I can't."

"Okay. Okay, maybe I can-"

There was a crack, high above their heads. Followed by another and another. Hope looked up, found destruction spreading its spindly fingers as cracks branched across the ceiling. "It's taken too much damage. It's coming down."

Zalera snatched up her chakrams, sliding them into her straps as Hope picked her up, his arms maneuvering around her weapons' sharp points. Alexander was at their side within seconds. He laid his hand down, and Hope jumped up into his palm. The eidolon brought them close to his chest, stone fingers clacking around them as he closed them between his hands. Hope still covered Zalera, watched through the slits of Alexander's fingers as the structure came down, debris smashing any last stragglers of Castea's crew.

Bursting through the doors, they made it to a dark tunnel. A blinding white light laid at the end. Alexander could have walked them out within seconds, but Hope could feel Alexander's energy waning, a tight pull coiling inside of Hope's chest as if the eidolon was being reeled in. Alexander set them down moments before his form dispersed into the air. The cave was shaking beneath them, causing Hope to stumble with Zalera in his hold. He bounced off of the wall, pushing himself into a run.

The cave was collapsing behind them.

Hope ran.

And ran

And ran

They were enveloped in white.

The sun. It was blinding, made Hope slam his eyelids shut as he set Zalera down. Blindly, he collapsed. All he could do was breathe, push the air in and out of his chest. Hope opened his eyes cautiously, squinting to see through the bright shock of the sun's light, feeling its warmth and the air on his face. Something prickled beneath his skin, tickling him as he moved.

_Grass._

_I forgot what this felt like._

Hope put his hand to his bare chest, closing his eyes. _Thank you, Alexander._

_"Congratulations, little one. You are free."_

Hope could feel Alexander inside of him, interpreted his words through the hum in his veins. He felt glad to have his friend back. But it meant…

Hope's energy had been sapped. He could barely move, everything in his body screaming. His adrenaline was gone. Now that he was safe, all he had left was pain and exhaustion. Hope looked down his body, scanned to find cuts and bruises, some dark enough to denote broken bones. Alexander healed his most severe injuries, managed to purge the Maguria from his system, but he was left with his non-life-threatening wounds.

There was a bloom of warmth on his cheek, and Hope brought a hand up to meet Zalera's. "You should heal some of this up," she suggested, hand ghosting over a gash in his chest.

Hope could still feel Castea rustling around inside of him. She lingered on him, and he wanted more than anything to erase all traces of her and Sebastian and the ark from his body. "Let me do something first." Hope focused his will into healing, helping, saving, and a curaga sunk itself into Zalera, the skin of her leg stitching itself back together. The raw redness and singed edges smoothed back into normal skin. The magic took its toll, left him feeling woozy and he fell back as the world blurred out. "There."

"You didn't have to..." Hope felt arms catch his descent, helping to lead him down. "You need to heal yourself."

Hope coughed up a laugh. "I would, but it's surprising that I got the spell right on you. I'm not sure that I could do that again."

"Oh thanks. Now I feel like a test subject, Mr. Scientist," Zalera laughed.

The sound drew Hope in, and Hope could see Zalera with such clarity now. Bright eyes, a wide smile, hair so green that it was vibrant, freckles that spread in a wave across her cheekbones.

"Plus I don't think I have the energy. Even if I did, I need to preserve my strength. We don't know if there are any more of them or what we'll come across out here." His eyes searched, found themselves huddled in a pack of trees, a mountain beyond that stretched up into the sky. The familiar sounds of Pulse were a comfort around them.

"It's morning," Zalera said, quiet, but awed. The heat had already settled in, fashioning wavy mirages in the distance. Everything was so clear, filled with life and color.

It almost felt like they didn't belong.

Hope caught sight of the beautiful, giant crystal that was Cocoon. It stood proud over the surrounding trees, shimmering and sparkling and Hope couldn't believe that he used to curse the sight. "We were that close," Hope said, eyes calculating distance as they searched out a sight of their settlement. He sat up weakly, but was tugged back down.

"Nope." Zalera led him down and pulled out a rolled up mat from her bag, placing it under his head. "You rest. I'll stay on lookout."

Hope went to protest, but a yawn swallowed it up, spat out his resistance.

* * *

_The last time that I was here and free, you were by my side._

Zalera held her grief in her diaphragm, feeling Yeul's presence in everything around her. The ark held nothing but bad memories where she ached with regret and remorse. Pulse was worse, forcing her to reminisce in the good memories that made her long for what she could never have again. Her Yeul was gone, lost from her life. She would be reborn, but as a shell of herself. Yeul wouldn't have their memories. She wouldn't remember their tribe, her previous guardian.

Zalera locked all of that up inside, sealed it away. She stood watch over Hope until the sun hung in the middle of the sky. Gran Pulse was the same as ever. Her home. There were no threats, human or beast, and Zalera was glad. Fatigue had settled in. She could feel months of inactivity weighing on her muscles. She wasn't sure that she could swing her chakram again.

Hope lay peaceful. Zalera felt the opportunity like the hunter she was, preying on the unaware. She held her chakram in a tight grip, hung it over his throat. This was it. The perfect timing to take out a ticking time bomb before it could explode. He was a l'Cie. A l'Cie with a destiny to kill all who inhabited Pulse. He was a threat to humanity. It was her duty as a guardian to take him out.

Hesitation stilled her hand, left her biting down onto her tongue. She prayed for him, wished him free. He was gentle, kind. He dragged her up out of the darkness. He freed her from not only the cell in the ark, but also the cell in her heart. He deserved to live. Yeul wanted him to live.

_I'm sorry._ She withdrew her weapon and walked away from him. Dropping her chakram into the dirt, she picked up Yeul's bag, traced the flowers with dirt-crusted fingertips. A breeze stirred, and Zalera tugged Hope's coat closed around her. _I'll protect you, Hope. You saved me and helped me even though I should have died for my failures. If there is anyone left hunting you, I will kill them. I will get you home. I will help you fight this fate._

"Zalera? What-"

She turned, eyes wide as he stirred. "It's only been a few hours, you should rest more."

Hope didn't listen. He stood, rubbing at the trenches circling his wrists as his gaze grazed the land. "We did it. We actually made it. I thought I'd wake up to find myself strapped back to that..." His jaw tightened and his eyes squeezed shut. "It felt like it would never end."

"No, you saved us."

"It was Alexander who saved us."

Zalera shook her head. "You saved us. I'm just sorry..." She looked down at his wrist, envisioning the trials to come. "I'm just sorry that it took _this_ to get us out."

"I used to cover my brand when we were l'Cie. So it wouldn't be noticeable, you know?" She brushed her fingertips against his left wrist and Hope winced. Zalera wondered if it hurt. If it was like a scar, something that flared with pain from memory. Or if it was like the tattoos of her people, a brand of a warrior. "I guess I should-"

Zalera ripped off a piece of her skirt and wrapped it around the brand. "When we find your people, you can decide when to tell them. This way, it'll be on your terms."

Hope stared at the fabric, a dumbfounded smile sprouting. "Thanks." A roar echoed above the trees, stirred the creatures around them into running in all directions. "We need to get going."

"A wise decision."

"I can't believe that I finally get to go back."

Zalera packed up her sleep mat, picked up Hope's gunblade and tossed it toward him. "We'll find a safe place to rest. You need more time to recover."

"No, I'm alright-"

"You need it, Hope. We're close to Academia. Our pursuers are dead or trapped. There's no rush."

"No rush?" Irritation twitched in his cheeks. He flicked out his blade and Zalera braced herself. "I've been locked up in that hole for who knows how long and my home is right there, so close, and there's no rush? You may have your home back, but I don't. I have to get back to my home, to my family, to my friends, to-"

"To her?" Hope's anger dissipated into self-conscious squirms. Zalera felt herself soften.

"Yeah."

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she strapped everything onto her person, faced Hope with what she hoped was understanding. "I won't ever have my home back. Yeul was my home. Nothing means anything without her."

Hope paled. "I'm so sorry. I didn't-"

"No. Let's go. If we avoid all unnecessary beasts and keep a steady pace, we should get there by nightfall."

"Are you serious?"

"Trust me. I know this land. I was a wanderer, remember?"

* * *

"Okay, Lightning, we both know that you aren't going to use that," Cass said, though there was a satisfying tremble to his voice.

_Good. You're finally starting to take me seriously._

Lightning held Cass in the crosshairs of her gunblade, finger brushing the trigger. Cass stared her down, unflinching. "No. You're right. I can't." Lightning drew back, holstering her weapon. Cass sagged back into his lazed stance, slipping his hands in his pockets. He was unprepared as Lightning pivoted back, grabbing his shoulder as she kneed him in the stomach. Cass grunted, cradling his gut and falling to the floor. "But I can do that." Lightning walked herself back over to the office couch to sit down.

He sucked in a breath like he was sipping through a straw. "I don't know what I did this time," Cass gasped.

"Oh, I'm sure it was something." Alyssa entered the room, her sunny smile brightening as she looked down at Cass. "I came to remind you of your string of meetings from twelve-thirty to six. If you're going to take a lunch, you should do it soon."

"Yeah, yeah." He waved her off as he pushed himself from the ground.

"Aim a little lower next time." Alyssa left with a wink in Lightning's direction.

"What, is the world against me?"

"Because you're such a joy," Lightning said, flipping through a set of research documents. "How about you show a modicum of respect, then the world might soften up."

"All I did was compliment you." Lightning skewered him with a look that had him raising his hands up in defense. "Whatever, I give up."

"Tactless and crude comments are not compliments."

"Like I said, whatever." Cass opened his office door and slouched against it, rubbing a circle into his stomach. "Unless you want to beat me up some more, we should probably get some grub." Lightning flicked her gaze toward him, then to the untouched paperwork mobbing his desk, and back down to her page. Cass made a frustrated sound. "I'm going to get some food and I'm pretty sure that my _guard_ is supposed to come with me."

"Krazintzky and Taylor should have you covered."

"I could drop dead right here and now and you wouldn't give a shit, would you?"

"Don't get all needy on me now. Does this mean that I found your weakness? A stone cold shoulder."

"I don't like being dismissed and ignored," Cass said, sinking his beanie lower over his face. "I've had my fill of apathetic adults."

Cass really was a child. Acting out to get the attention of the adults who never cared. Cass' troublesome, infantile behavior was easy to understand. It didn't mean that she had to put up with it.

And yet…

She stood, joining Cass' side.

"Have you eaten here?" Cass asked as he led them down the Academy steps, pointing at a food truck that caused pain to swell in her chest. Her and Hope sat on these steps, ate that food, talked and teased each other. It was the first time that Lightning felt at peace in this new world.

She could see Jun, the owner that mothered Hope with adoring care. The pain ballooned, threatened to pop. "Yeah. Hope and I ate here."

"Really?" She didn't expect the surprise in Cass' voice, the way amazement pried open his features.

"Now, what can I-" Jun dropped the towel that she had been using to wipe her hands. "I'll be damned. If it isn't the new director. How have you been, Cass?"

Cass' expression softened, and Lightning pulled her presence back, feeling like an intruder stomping into a private, familial moment. Jun looked at Cass the way she looked at Hope, and Lightning had never seen Cass look at someone like he did Jun. Lightning was missing something again, pieces of a puzzle that she hadn't seen the cover of. It served to remind her yet again of her outsider status.

Jun was an elderly woman, care in her smile and exhaustion in her eyes. Wrinkles cracked across her face, gnarled fingers rubbing soothingly together when her hands found a moment of rest. Weight rounded out her face. White hair was tied in a messy bun, netting stretched across it, the band imprinting itself as a red line on her forehead. She looked into a person's eyes when they were talking, attentive and focused with the patient understanding of a grandparent.

"It's nice to see you too, young lady." Jun bowed her head in greeting. Lightning didn't think that she would remember her.

"Heya, Jun," Cass stepped up to the window, leaning his crossed arms on the serving sill. "I've been fine. 'Cept all his work they got me doing is killing my brain."

"No one ever said that the job was easy. It was no wonder when Hope stopped coming by with the rest of you." Jun's hands busied themselves with the chopping of carrots, each thwack of the knife into the cutting board sounding out harsher than the last. Anger guided her hands until she stopped her movements, "Our dear Hope. I haven't felt an absence this deeply since my son. Whoever took Hope… They deserve to be devoured by their sins."

"What does deflowered mean, Nana?"

Lightning looked down, caught sight of a young boy at her hip. Curious, violet-gray eyes stared up beneath a mop of indigo hair. He was a tiny thing, a backpack on his back that was decorated with Mighty Man symbols, a cartoon superhero that Lightning remembered from Serah's younger years.

Jun snapped her mouth shut. "Devoured, honey. I said devoured. As in…" Jun blinked, looking down at the cutting board in front of her, "As in I just devoured a bowl of carrots. Like these."

Cass buried his face into his crossed arms, snickering, "Deflowered…" and Jun smacked him with a severed, bushy carrot top.

The boy wrinkled his nose. "Can I de… de- _vour_ some candy instead?"

"Dear, what are you doing out of school?

"Got out early, 'member?"

"Right. I'm sorry. Busy morning. Why don't you say hello? You remember Cass."

Cass lifted a brow in his direction, moving his hand in a weak wave. The boy's face lit up and he literally jumped with joy. "I haven't seen you in forever! You used to play Super Destroyer Bots with me!"

"And this is his and Hope's friend. Lightning, right?"

Kids weren't Lightning's specialty. Their open and blunt curiosity tended to make Lightning uncomfortable. She couldn't deny his magnetic joy, reaching down a hand with an uneasy smile.

It was like she pressed pause on his bouncy energy. He stared up at her as his jaw fell open, and Lightning didn't know how to handle this. Her hand hung there until the boy slowly grasped it, sandwiching it between his small hands. "You're pretty."

"Such a lady-killer," Cass said, mussing the boy's hair.

Okay, the kid was kind of adorable. "What's your name?" Lightning asked.

His expression turned sheepish, his hands folding behind his back as his body swayed left and right. "It's Arden. I'm eight." He looked between Cass and Lightning, a question striking his expression as swiftly as the dinging of a bell. "Did you bring Hope with you?"

The adults' smiles wilted and Cass and Lightning looked to Jun. "Honey, you should head on home. Get Donya from the bakery to take ya home. Be careful, okay?"

"Aww," Arden whined, hands coming up to tug on the straps of his bag, "but I wanna spend more time with Cass and the pretty girl, Nana."

"No buts, Arden. Run along. It's only a block away. And no TV 'til I get home. Remember, I'll know."

"Yeah, because grandmas know everything." Arden's lips scrunched to the side with displeasure. He gave them a wave with a lifeless flap of his hand before scampering off.

"What I wouldn't give to have his energy." Jun wiped her brow, eyes widening with stress as she pushed her fingers into her temples. "What would you like?"

"The usual. For both of us," Cass said. Lightning frowned at his assumption, defiantly snatching a menu from the holder on the side. "Don't get your panties in a bunch, princess."

Jun leaned herself out the window to smack him with the carrot greens again. "That's no way to talk to a lady. Be a gentlemen."

"Geez. Saw- _rree_." He hardly sounded it.

"This one?" Lightning asked, poking a thumb into Cass' bicep. "A gentlemen?"

Jun gave a laugh. "He can be one. I remember when the three of you used to come around. You would be so sweet and courteous to her."

Discomfort rose to Cass' expression as his lips tugged away from his teeth in a cringe.

Lightning couldn't help but poke her nose deeper, amused as if she was getting a peek at baby pictures. "Who?"

"Miss Nivien," Jun said, a lilt to her voice that made Cass groan. "Even while she was dating Hope. He was too good of a friend to do anything about his feelings."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Cass yanked his beanie down, the fabric swallowing his face. Lightning found herself laughing. All of the embarrassing and lewd things that Cass said, and _this_ is what brought a flush to his cheeks?

"Anyway, come around more often. Arden misses ya, Cass. And he's seems quite taken with you, dear."

"Is it just the two of you?" Lightning asked, taking the paper tray from Jun's outstretched hands.

"We all lost people in the fall." Jun took Cass' card, scanned it under the reader on the back wall. "His mother was killed in the attack on Eden and his father... My son is crystallized in that world up there somewhere. It was a miracle that I found Arden. I take care of him now." She turned back around, eyes glossy as she returned Cass' card.

Guilt swooped down on Lightning, pecking at her relentlessly. "I'm sorry."

Jun reached to pat her hand. "Don't be. I've heard enough apologies from Hope already. That boy is such a sweetheart, but he needs to stop blaming himself for it all. I don't blame any of you. It wasn't your fault that you were made l'Cie. Now go on and enjoy the sunlight."

Lightning was grateful that they didn't sit on the steps, taking up residency at a table outside of a nearby café instead. She could see Hope sitting there, head and hand in the clouds. Lightning looked away from the spot. "I get why Hope works himself to death."

"Yeah?" Cass bit into his burger, peanut butter oozing out as a chunk of bacon slipped down onto his tray.

Lightning felt skepticism tug at her face as she peeled her bun up to peer inside. "He feels guilty. I do too, but... It's misplaced and unhealthy."

"It's not just that," Cass said around a mouthful of burger mush.

"Chew and swallow."

Cass rolled his eyes, closing his mouth, heaving exaggerated chews and swallowing. He gave her a view of his open, empty mouth before continuing. "It's an obligation to Hope. He _has_ to save them. Your sister, her fiancé, Sazh's boy, Nivien's parents, Arden's father, my mother and every other person up there. Hope works tirelessly to give them their freedom back and to build a home for the rest of us." Cass hummed to himself, lips pursing as he set down his burger. His features twisted like he was going to be sick.

_If you're eating crap like this, it's no wonder._

"He finally finds a way and he gets taken. I don't mean to sound paranoid, but... it doesn't seem like a coincidence to me." Cass rose a brow toward her, seeking to affirm his suspicion.

_No_ , Lightning thought. _No, it doesn't._

* * *

The final ahriman let out a panicked chirp, its wings flapping together as a fira glowed at the tips of its wings. Zalera's chakram left her hand, slicing through the beast's chest and killing it before its magic could be summoned. "Looks like they aren't letting up."

Hope stared down at the corpses of the imps and ahrimans surrounding them, feeling frustration boil in his gut. They were so close yet every step they took was hampered by the wilds of Pulse. Hope watched Zalera stumble as she tore her weapon free, wiping the sweat from her brow. Her skin looked even more sallow, a faintness fluttering her eyelids. Hope was sure that he didn't look much better.

He shook his head to rid himself of his weariness. He flicked his gunblade closed, the action jolting pain up his arm. "Let's go. We're almost…" Zalera stood unmoving, staring at the dirt, her features screwed up with an ache that Hope recognized. "What's up?" Impatience seeped into his voice, because his home was _right there_. He could feel its proximity singing in his veins. Concern ripped through his emotions as he took note of the flower at Zalera's feet.

"The daisy, huh?" It was tiny, alone, pushing itself up through the dry, cracked soil. It thrived despite its circumstances, its isolation. "You told me how much Yeul used to favor them."

Zalera nodded her head wordlessly, bending down to brush its petals with a care that betrayed the blood spattering her form. "For as long as I knew her."

"Zalera?" A familiar question ate at his mind, slipped from his tongue. "How come you aren't a l'Cie?" It wasn't the first time that Hope had asked her that question, but Zalera shuttered the truth behind evasive answers and expert dodging. "Yeul's guardian is imbued with the power to protect her, at least that is what I have read. It makes sense that such a… gifted girl would need one. Yet…"

Zalera smiled. It was gentle, fractured at the corners and Hope tried to swallow his question back up. "I was not her original Guardian." The statement hunched her shoulders, drew her fingers to tighten against the metal of her chakrams. "During an attack by some beasts, Yeul was wounded. It wasn't fatal, but they had to have been painful to terrify her so. Her guardian healed her wounds with the same expertise that he always did. He apologized. Countless apologies and he begged for forgiveness. I never heard him do that before. He seemed too strong, too godly for it. Yeul didn't blame him, but he blamed himself. I didn't understand why it affected him so deeply, but now I do. The incident sewed doubt inside of him. Made him question his abilities, his devotion. It turned him Cie'th-" Zalera's breath caught. Chakram slipping from her grasp, she held her chest, and Hope could feel his own heart cracking. "Yeul didn't want a guardian after that, not when despair could lead them to that cruel fate. So I told her that I would protect her without the powers of a l'Cie. I thought it would be better than no guardian at all…"

Regret pushed Hope forward, led him to putting a hand on her back. Yeul's gift had taken much from Zalera, too much and Hope resolved himself that he would make it right. Somehow, he would find a way to heal these wounds inside of her. "Let's keep moving."

* * *

Lightning stood guard by the door, watching with veiled eyes as Cass held a meeting with men that she didn't recognize and didn't care to know. Hildough was of their number, discussing business that Lightning had tuned out. Every nerve in her body was trained on Cass, vigilant of any aggression or suspicious movement, but her gaze was set out the window. Time had corroded her hope, sunk its teeth in and gorged itself on her faith that Hope would return. Her eyes still looked out, watching for a flash of silver.

A bloodlust crept up on her, latched itself onto her back where she could feel its weight like persuasion. She thirsted for battle. Wanted to slash and hack and kill. She thought to ask for a break, switch with one of Cass' other guards so she could rip her blade through the wildlife at the border. It wouldn't stisfy, she knew that. Her blade craved only the blood of the ones who stole Hope.

Her ears twitched at an approach from beyond the door. Slowly, as not to alert the rest in the room, her hand found her gunblade. That swift, crisp knock loosened her hold, and Alyssa stepped in.

"Director, there's someone here to see you." Alyssa's teeth tugged at her lip, nervously twittering. "I advised her to make an appointment… She says it's important."

"Yeah?" An eagerness lit in Cass' eyes and he practically sprang up from his chair. "Yeah, okay. I'll be back." Lightning followed him out, hearing Hildough cover with idle conversation. Alyssa led them to an adjacent conference room, the eldest La Salle standing rigid at the head of the table.

She could feel Cass tense at Nivien's scowl. Cass tried to play it off, acting as indifferent as ever. Nivien's cutting gaze knicked Lightning as she said, "You are excused for now, Sergeant."

"She's fine where she is," Cass said. "I doubt that there's a threat here, but better safe than sorry."

Nivien stepped toward him, eyes ablaze. "I ordered her out."

"And I ordered her to stay. Last I checked, I outrank you now, soldier."

Lightning felt awkward in her position, unsure of how to approach this kind of interaction. Whatever the subject, it was enough to enrage Nivien and put Cass on edge. It felt personal, almost intimate in a way. Lightning didn't care. Anger still wisped off of Lightning as she looked at Nivien, their issues hardly resolved. Yet if the lieutenant wanted to give Cass a good kick in the ass, Lightning would likely applaud.

"You want her in on this, too?" Nivien sneered. "Why not? This _stranger_ is in on everything else, anyway."

Okay. Maybe it was Nivien that was going to get her ass kicked.

Cass held up a hand in front of Lightning. "I have a full schedule, Lieutenant. If you have a point, please make it."

"I just spoke with Captain Geno. What the hell are you doing, Cass?"

Lightning looked to Cass, but his expression was schooled, carefully crafted and Lightning knew that Nivien struck something. "I'm not sure that I understand what you're getting at."

"You know very well what I'm talking about." She shoved a hand into his shoulder, unbalancing him enough that it knocked him back into the table. "What have you gotten yourself into this time? I thought you were-"

"Lieutenant," Cass warned, but she continued.

"This is exactly why Hope stopped talking to you."

Lightning's head snapped up.

Cass' eyes narrowed in challenge. "Oh, really? And why is it that he stopped talking to you?"

Shock jolted Nivien back before she smacked him across the face. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

Cass' hand cupped his cheek, his stun cracking his expression wide open. He didn't expect it. Lightning didn't expect it, and she knew that it was time to put a leash on Nivien's animosity. "Alright. You two need to cool it before this gets too far out of hand." She put a hand on each of their equally tense shoulders. At the contact, Nivien's furious gaze flicked to her as she ripped herself away.

"Get your hands off of me, Sergeant. No one asked for your help."

Lightning clenched her teeth. Her instinct was to roar back at the woman, meet her challenge head on. She couldn't risk another battle with her superior, but Nivien was out of line. "I'm doing my job, Lieutenant. My mission is to protect the director from any threat. Go cool your head."

Nivien scoffed. "So. You wake up out of stasis and think that you're some big shot, bad ass soldier? That you can take on and command anyone you want? That you can _do_ whatever you want?" She slammed her fist down on the conference table. "What gives you the right to come here and just-"

"Nivien... is this about..." Cass shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his tone softening in a way that sounded strange coming from the unruly teenager. "This isn't about me, is it? This is about-"

"No, this is most certainly about you. Hope told me to look out for you, to keep you out of trouble and... Maker, you- You're investigating them again, aren't you? Do you know what the Sanctum can do to you? What they did to Hope's father? Dammit, Cass, do you want to die?!"

_What is going on?_

Hope. Investigating. The Sanctum. Those subjects peeked Lightning's interest, made her want to drag out what remained unspoken. But she held her tongue, placing herself between the pair once more.

"No one needs your help, Farron," Nivien bit. "Cass doesn't need it. I don't need it. Hope most certainly doesn't need it. So why don't you go back to protecting your statue of a sister?"

"What did you just say?" She stepped towards Nivien, but Cass barred her with an arm across her stomach. "Where do you get off talking about my sister? I can protect whoever I damn well please!"

"This is so not-" Cass tried, but Nivien pushed him to the side before grabbing Lightning by the collar.

Lightning shoved the woman off of her, fist balling at her side. How she wanted to deal the blow, finish this for good. As if she had to prove something to Nivien, to herself. "I don't know what your problem is, but-"

"Enough!" Cass shouted. He picked himself up, snatching his beanie from where it had been knocked off and snapping it free of any dirt or dust. "Lieutenant, leave now. Return to your post before... before I have to report you."

Words worked inside of Nivien's jaw, something pulsing with the vein on her forehead. "This conversation is not over. Neither conversation is."

"Lieutenant," Cass warned, finality in his voice.

She left the room without another word.

* * *

"You can say something, you know? I'm not going to fly off the handle because you brought up Yeul."

Hope looked over to see Zalera's humored smile, relaxing his steps as he laughed a little at himself. "Sorry."

"And stop apologizing."

"Sorry."

Zalera rolled her eyes. "Academia," she said, eyes skirting over to his. Just the name of his city spoken out loud caused his yearning to expand in his chest. "What do you think I'll be doing once we get to your city?"

_My city..._

It had been a year and he still wasn't used to his leadership role. Calling it his city made it sound like a possession, an object to be used and discarded. Hope wasn't a puppet master, or some almighty god moving pawns on a board. Hope was only a guiding hand, someone who wanted to lead Cocoon's people into a better, brighter future. "We have rooms in the Academy Base. You can take up residency in one of those. As to your role… What do you want to do?"

"What do I want?" Zalera asked herself. She shook the thought off with a scrunched nose. "I haven't asked myself that before. It's a daunting question. As if I'm deciding my place in the universe, crafting my own fate."

"That's the way it's supposed to be."

Zalera laughed, but it was cut short. She grabbed Hope by the arm, forcing him to a stop. "Wait," she mouthed, and Hope's heart began to pound at the alarm widening her eyes. She crouched down, her hand flattening into the earth.

Hope pulled his gunblade, eyes searching through the trees. He could feel it, the rumbling of the ground beneath them. Something was coming. "Should we run?"

"Too late. Get ready."

The words barely left her lips before a behemoth king burst into sight. Its bulk tore through the trunks of trees, wood splintering in all directions, their thorny pieces nicking their skin and burying in like shrapnel. The beast ran at them full force, their scent in its nose, eyes crazed with hunger. Hope brought up a hand, mind running down the list of things to cast, but he was roughly shoved to the side.

Hope landed in the dirt, swiveling back around to see Zalera holding her stance, chakrams raised. "What are you doing?!" Hope's hand shot up, a fire ball blossoming in his palm and shooting out. The behemoth ran right through it, snarling as it brought a massive paw down onto Zalera. She caught its attack, guarding with her chakrams. Her body shook with the weight, and Hope didn't want to think about her sore, atrophied muscles on her weak, malnourished frame.

Hope tossed out another spell, cursing as an aerora swept around the beast. It wasn't the spell that he wanted. He knew that the behemoth was immune to wind magic. It agitated him, made Hope feel useless as Zalera was steadily being hammered down into the dirt. What was wrong with him? Wasn't he the best with magic? It came so easily to him before.

Hope dispelled the thoughts. _If my magic is failing me, I'll just have to go with good, old fashioned, person to beast combat._ Wishing he had his boomerang to keep a distance, Hope charged at the beast, slicing into the paw that bore down on his teammate. Hope drew back as the behemoth whipped its paw back. Zalera slumped to the ground, breathing in. Hope stood in front of her, allowing her to recover. He charged forth again, shooting at the behemoth's paws to unbalance it before leaping toward its head. Something flickered in his peripheries. Shiny, spinning metal sliced across the behemoth's face, Zalera's chakrams effectively distracting the beast as it howled. Hope jumped, propelling himself forward and impaling the behemoth's eye with his gunblade.

Hope hung there, trying to wrench his blade free and maybe he had been a tad short sighted with his attack. The behemoth's roar shook through Hope, made him too disoriented to block the incoming swipe of its paw. It was like being hit by a truck. The paw slammed into his side, ripping his gunblade free as he was sent flying into a nearby tree. Hope's instincts seemed to kick in, a protect enshrouding him before impact. His body dented a crater into the tree's side, made Hope feel like every bone in his body was reverberating. Hope pushed himself up, gaze frantically searching for his opponent. He was seeing double, could barely keep his feet under him.

"Hope?"

He heard Zalera call to him. He held up a hand, waving it around blindly. "I'm okay!" He drew in a breath, steadying himself and settling the beast in his crosshairs. Zalera was attacking now. She ran at it, ducking a claw as she slid beneath its body. She brought her weapons up, slicing down the belly of the king. She slid out of Hope's sight, the beast collapsing to the ground in her wake.

"Thank god," Hope sighed, dropping down. Zalera came into sight, rounding the behemoth and coming to Hope's side. "Nice work."

"Eh. If you hadn't half blinded it, it would have struck me for sure."

"Launching myself at it sounded better in theory."

Zalera snorted, laughing as she smacked a hand to her face. "It was hilarious watching you swing around from its head. Terrifying. But also hilarious."

"Yeah, sure. Laugh it up."

A paw stomped back down, shaking the two and bringing Zalera down to Hope's level. The behemoth climbed back up, standing on its back legs. The long, jagged gash on its belly sealed up, the flesh of its eyeball following as it reformed. It summoned a weapon to its hand, a saw blade spinning atop the handle.

"I hate it when these things do that," Hope said, standing. Zalera gave him a nod, and they were back at it.

He felt his strength dwindling as the battle continued. One glance toward his partner told him that she was experiencing the same. Her attacks were slowing, her steps shuffled and disoriented. Firing off a waterga instead of a firaga, Hope wanted to rip his brand off. What good was the thing if he couldn't use it properly? Hope was used to being relied on. He was the back up that was always there with powerful attacks and even more potent healing spells.

The behemoth slashed his blade at Zalera. She used the weapon as leverage to launch herself toward its face, chakram outstretched. Hope's breath hitched in his chest as the behemoth caught her chakram between its teeth. It shook its head, flinging her back. She landed like a meteor striking the ground. Still she used the momentum to roll herself back to her feet. She was too dazed to catch its next attack. It swiped a paw at her, caught her in her side. Its claws ripped into her, stabbing straight through her back. Hope could hear the slosh of her blood as it hit the ground, the cracking of her bones as its paw flexed. Zalera screamed, her chakram slipping from her grip.

"Let go of her!" Hope yelled. Another fira bolted from his hand, singed the hair near its eye. "Remember me? I'm going to take that eye out this time!" The behemoth jerked its arm, tossing Zalera away.

Hope focused everything he had left inside of him on the beast. Using spell after spell, bullet after bullet, and slash after slash until it was down. Sparing no time after the beast hit the ground, he ran to Zalera. She laid discarded by the tree that Hope's body had carved a curve into. Her side was gushing blood, her hands barely holding the ribbons of her skin together. Zalera's breath was erratic, her eyes dull and searching. "It's gonna be okay, Zalera. You're gonna be fine." He put his hand over her, thought about every injury that he had ever healed, that feeling as he saved a life, brought smiles back to his teammates' faces. Nothing came. No warmth. No florescent glow. "No, this can't-"

_"Focus, Hope."_

Alexander's words rumbled through him, settled the stirrings of panic. Drowning out everything around him, Hope settled his mind on Zalera's breath, her heartbeat. The magic tingled at his fingertips, cure spells sinking in to knit her side back together. "C'mon, Z, you're gonna be fine." The bleeding stopped, the ends of the gashes sealing with scabs, and Hope could feel the magic draining the energy from his body. Stopping, Hope swallowed against the fatigue. She wasn't completely healed, but it would have to do.

Coughing, Zalera gasped as she attempted to sit up. "Did you just call me Z?"

"…Sorry."

She laughed until it dissolved into coughs. They rattled her frame, made blood gush forth from what was left of her wounds. "Yeul used to call me that."

"I'm sorry. Maker, I'm so sorry. I keep saying the wrong things and I can't heal your wounds properly and-"

"Don't ap-apologize. I've missss _ssed_ hearing the name." She clutched onto his hand. "You're doing fine with your magic. Your b-body has to adjust, especially since your brand was forced to surface. You'll be back to full potential, I'm sure of it." Gasping, she used her other hand to apply pressure to her side. "You need to go. Academia is only a small distance away now."

"No, I'm not leaving you." He jumped up, carefully leaning her forward as he strapped her weapons back into place. He put his arms beneath her back and knees, heaving her up into his hold.

Zalera scowled at him. "This is beyond idiotic. What if we come across more monsters?"

"We'll be fine."

* * *

"Are you going to speak sometime soon or are we just going to sit here?"

After the argument with Nivien, Lightning had accepted Cass' pleas to let it lie until end of day. End of day had come, and she was still waiting for an explanation.

What was it that had Nivien so worried?

What made Hope stop talking to Cass?

Why did the mere sight of Lightning infuriate Nivien?

Why was Cass investigating the Sanctum? How and for how long?

Cass slipped a book from Hope's office shelf, flipping the pages between his fingers. "Nivien has been a little... off since Hope disappeared. It's understandable. They were close, and she lost her brother to the incident, as well."

"Don't tell me what I already know. What is it that you're into, Cass? She had to have had a damn good reason to question you like that. She was ready to take me on to get it out of you."

Cass smirked into the pages, grinning with that 'I know something you don't know' grin. "I think I know why she went off on you. You're a threat."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Lightning asked, before swerving back on point. "Don't change the subject."

He laughed, hard enough that he doubled over. The quality of it sounded wrong, strangled. "It's unbelievably obvious. Hope has feelings for you." Cass smacked the book closed, hammering home the statement. "He's liked you as more than just a friend for a while now."

Lightning didn't entertain the thought. "That's ridiculous."

"I know what I'm talking about. Nivien's been jealous since you woke up. Even she knows. To tell you the truth, I think that's why they broke up."

"Because of me?" Lightning asked, even as every single thought in her mind told her to stop. That it wasn't right. Cass was just messing with her, steering the conversation away from himself. "That's… There's no way that…What?"

Cass plopped himself back down at his desk, kicking his feet up on the mounds of papers. "Nivien loved Hope, there was no doubt about it. For some reason, though, he kept her at arm's length. His work, his father's death... those were just excuses. I think- No, I _know_ that the real reason was because he was holding onto his feelings toward you."

Lightning's mind sputtered with the concept. Hope was Hope. That was how she saw him. The baby of their team that they had to protect. The healer that they could count on. The grief-stricken kid that chose her to cling to. She turned a blind eye to his feelings when they were l'Cie. He was a kid with a crush, and Snow loved to tease her about it. But those feelings were supposed to have dissipated as he grew, not blossomed into something that held him back.

Lightning saw the way that Nivien looked at Hope, felt her ire when the lieutenant lost him. They could have had a future together. Been happy. Did Lightning ruin that for Hope, even while encased in crystal?

It was just a crush.

It would go away.

Lightning hid inside of those assurances, ignoring how the years changed her perspective.

Hope wasn't just Hope anymore.

Cass' smugness remained, appeared to feed on her confusion. "It was why he worked so hard to decrystallize everyone. Initially, I think it was so he could wake you up."

It imploded her thoughts. Made her question every conversation that she had with Hope, each interaction and gesture and the bandana in her pocket.

Before Lightning could wrap her head around the conversation and steer it back toward their original subject, her comm rang a split second before Cass'. "It's Sazh," she said, staring at the screen.

"Alyssa," Cass replied.

They both answered only to give each other mirrored looks. Lightning stood and bolted out the door, still talking to Sazh. As she ran down the Academy's halls, his first sentences were all that she could think about.

"He's all right, Lightning. Hope found his way home."


	12. Purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A homecoming is long overdue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am the least disciplined person ever. Just felt like confessing that. Carry on.

Night had fallen. The darkness was their most relentless pursuer, Hope's current enemy as it degraded his eyesight. He tripped on rocks, bounced off of tree trunks, bled from the scrapes of brush. None of it stopped him. His breathing was heavy, heartbeat thudding like marching behemoths. Academia was in sight and with its close proximity Hope could feel his body giving. His gashes stung. His muscles burned. Sweat rushed down his back like a waterfall. Zalera's weight caused his arms to ache until he couldn't feel them at all.

_I won't let you go. I won't let you die._

Zalera lost consciousness long ago, the only sign of life being her ragged breath on his shoulder. Hope willed himself faster, dread filling him as he worried that even that may not be fast enough. She was still hanging on, clinging to life, but for how much longer?

The first building that Hope could recognize was a Cavalry base hangar. There would be soldiers to assist, a hospital mere blocks away. _Just a little farther and I'll be home._ Hope looked down at the woman in his arms. _We'll be home._

Two soldiers stood guard on the perimeter of Academia that Hope closed in on. Their bodies swiveled in his direction, and Hope could hear their safeties click, the gasps on their breath.

"Halt, identify yourself! What business do you have here?" shouted one soldier.

Hope tried to yell back, words a wheeze from his throat. He couldn't stop running. If he stopped, he would drop completely. "I'm... Someone, h-help... pp-p… please? It's the... I'm th-th...the..."

"I said stop! I will shoot!"

Hope pulled Zalera against him, slowing to a stop that brought him to his knees. "Please," Hope said, bending over Zalera as he shielded her with his body.

"Holy…" he heard one soldier say before the other closed in, jamming a rifle into Hope's back.

"I said-"

The rifle was suddenly swept away from him and Hope heard it clatter to the ground. Relief released the tension from his body. He could have kissed the ground he was kneeling on, if he wasn't ready to pass out.

"What are you doing?!"

"Are you blind or just that much of a rookie? Call in. That's the director, you idjit."

"The director? As in the missing Director Estheim?"

Hope could feel a fog encroaching on his mind, leaking into his vision. There was a hand on his shoulder, a careful grip yet it still rippled pain throughout the rest of Hope's body. Hope could feel it, Castea rifling through his chest, the blood gushing forth.

No, it was Zalera's blood, leaking down his chest.

"Please… She needs a doctor. Behemoth att-ttack."

There was this euphoric feeling, climbing above the pain. It made Hope smile as he caught sight of Cocoon high above them all.

He suddenly felt light, unburdened.

_I'm home._

Hope jerked back to reality as Zalera was lifted from his grip.

"No!" Hope shouted, hand outstretched.

His hand was taken, held by one of the soldiers. "Director. It's okay. We're getting her help. I promise." The grip tightened, the soldier, a man with cropped hair and a trimmed beard looked him straight in the eye. He was crouched beside him and Hope thought he looked familiar, a white scar cutting through his eyebrow. "I promise we won't hurt her."

"A med team is on its way. Seven minutes out," the other guard announced. He was leaning over Zalera, pressing something against her stomach. "We should get these two to safety until they arrive."

"She… needs help." Hope felt an arm snake under his as he was brought to his feet.

"Careful there, Director. You need some assistance as well."

* * *

"Sazh, your chocobo is shedding all over the equipment," Maqui grumbled, brushing the yellow feathers off of his monitor.

Maqui was up late, as he had been most nights, working on a ship that had already been fixed. Sleep didn't come easy, not since the incident. Nightmares would creep in on any moment of rest, batter him with the fists of his attackers. Then his nightmares would morph. He would watch as his teammates were beaten. They were captives, tied up and restrained so they couldn't fight back. Behind them, in the worst shape was-

Maqui cursed at a spark, quickly reconnecting the wires as he heard Sazh sigh. Since he couldn't sleep, his tinkering had turned from habit into a coping mechanism. Sazh noticed, didn't say anything, but Maqui could see the understanding in his eyes. The man had become his babysitter. Maqui would have yelled at him for it, if it didn't turn out to be a comfort. Maqui slid himself out from under the control panel, giving the man a glare, but it faltered as the object of his annoyance nuzzled its beak into Maqui's chest. Maqui laughed and pet the chocobo on the head, listening to the bird's soft sounds of contentment.

"Don't be such a grump," Sazh said. He was standing to the side, thumbing through one of Maqui's Mechanic's Digest magazines. "That's reserved for old men like me."

"How many times do we have to say it? Quit talking like you're a hundred."

"Really now? Then why did someone happen to give me a cane and a bag of adult diapers for my birthday?"

"It was a joke _because_ you always act like you're older than the Maker." Maqui stood, tossing his wire cutters aside as he pushed his hands into chocobo fluff. There was no other feeling quite as therapeutic. "I can't wait until you finally name her. I'm kind of tired of calling her 'the chocobo'."

Sazh's fingers slipped, and the magazine tumbled to the floor. He sighed, bending to pick it up. "That right is reserved for Dajh... when he gets out of stasis."

Realizing the slip of stupidity and carelessness, Maqui looked to his shoes. "S-sorry, S-"

"Aw, don't be." His smile was bright and charismatic as ever, a shade too exuberant. "It's no problem, kid." The man slung an arm over his companion's shoulders, shaking him. "Almost done with… whatever it is you're doing down there? I thought you had those glitches handled yesterday. You losing your edge?"

"Psh. I haven't lost anything. There is nothing that Maqui the Mechromancer can't handle." Maqui held up an arm, flexing a bicep. "Just doing a test, that's all."

"That's all? You've been down there for three hours."

"You're exaggerating."

"Exagg- I was paying attention when you-"

A gunshot rang out.

The both of them spun around to see one of the hangar doors rolling open to bang into the wall.

"I thought that you locked that door," Maqui said.

"I did. Right behind me."

Private Larynx ran through, a body in his arms as he trailed blood behind him. "Sorry about the lock," he said. He threw out an arm, knocking a workbench clear before laying the body down.

"Forget the lock," Sazh said, because Maqui couldn't form words. "What is- What happened to her?"

"Hope!" The name sprang from Maqui's throat before he could even process what he was seeing. Hope was being dragged in by another soldier, and Maqui was ready to run to him. Hug him, squeeze him, question him. But he couldn't move.

Hope was in terrible shape. Worse than terrible. He looked like a survivor of war. A man fresh from the crash of the purge train. There was so much damage, blood streaking down his front.

Larynx put a hand to the woman's forehead, using his glove to wipe it of the sweat. "The director came running at us with this woman all torn up. A med team is on its way. It should arrive shortly."

"You with me, Maq?"

There was a hand at Maqui's back. He nodded up at Sazh before he scrambled to Hope's side. Hope's body was a scraped and torn up mess. Maqui couldn't process all of the wounds. There was blood everywhere, gushing into Maqui's hand, leaking out of Hope's ear. Maqui couldn't stop the flood of questions that cascaded from his mouth. "Where have you been? What happened? How did you get here? How did-"

"Maqui," Sazh said, a reprimand in his tone. "Slow down. Hope? Hope, it's us," Sazh spoke soothingly, guiding Hope slowly over to a chair. "Are you-"

A scream tore through the air, jolting all of them as if a bolt of lightning had struck.

The girl was writhing on the table, screaming and thrashing. Her arm swung out, striking the soldier and sending him to the floor. "No! No, stop!" Another ear shattering scream erupted from her. "Just stop. Don't touch her! I'll kill you. All..." She gasped and cringed, holding her stomach and curling in on herself.

Maqui's focus was brought back to Hope as he pulled against their hands. He looked like a walking corpse, but there was still some strength left in him as he wrenched himself free of their grip. Maqui stared down at the blood on his hands, cringing at the chunks of something that he wiped onto his coveralls.

Hope was by her side, leaning over her. The dazed, lifeless look that he had entered with was gone, concern edging it out. He stared down at this stranger like she was important. "Zalera," Hope whispered, care in his breath. His hand hovered above her, but didn't touch. "We're out. They can't hurt us anymore. They can't hurt her anymore. Castea, Sebastian… they're gone."

_Another victim_ , Maqui realized, piecing together thoughts that had yet to congeal into a complete picture. Hope and this Zalera woman had gone through a still unknown hell. Maqui itched for details, burned to know where the abducted search team had been taken to, but he held his tongue. Hope was back. That was a miracle in itself.

"Please, Zalera. We're home now."

Zalera's eyes snapped open wide, full of fear. Breaths quick and erratic, she grabbed onto Hope's arm. Her eyes searched the room around her before finding Hope. "Hope," she croaked. Hope nodded, tugging her hand from his arm in favor of holding it in his own. "I-" Her eyes fluttered closed, her hand slipping from his as she fell back into unconsciousness.

Sighing, Hope turned back to face them. "Hi," was all he said with a slight, feigned smile.

Maqui ran forward and embraced him. "You're okay." Hope was a stick in his arms, so weak and fragile. He felt like a ghost of himself, like the man could phase right through his hands, disappear and float away.

"As okay as I can be, I guess." Hope hugged him back, and Maqui could feel how much the pressure was hurting Hope, but he didn't care, _couldn't_ care.

"It's great to have ya back, kid." Sazh swooped in to give Hope a hug when Maqui and Hope separated. Pulling back with a wide grin, he eyed the young man critically. He looked down at himself, then over at Maqui and Maqui could smell the blood and vomit on his clothes. "Time to get you cleaned up, huh?" Sazh asked, draping his jacket over Hope's shoulders. "Where'd your shirt run off to? With your shoes?"

Hope chuckled, but his head fell forward. Sazh caught him, sank down to the ground with Hope's body. "Hope? Hope?!" Sazh called, panic in his voice. "Where are those medics?!"

Sazh heaved Hope up into his arms. Hope's arm slipped free, hung out to the side and Maqui caught a glimpse of something he couldn't ignore. "No!" Maqui said. "Wait!" He yanked up the fabric covering his wrist, froze in place as Hope was dragged away.

"He's… a l'Cie…"

* * *

Lightning stormed her way into the hospital, a rampaging windstorm looking for a target. Sazh took a breath, readying to dive into that windstorm's path. There was an edge of desperation to Lightning as she drove through others in her path, wading through the traffic of soldiers, academia researchers and reporters. Rygdea, Amodar, and the board fought to keep Hope's return quiet, but to no avail. Information had leaked, and the rapid influx left staff with their hands full and Rygdea pulling out his hair.

The handling of Lightning was left to Sazh. He felt like a lion tamer heading into the den. "Lightning, good to see ya. I-"

"Where is he?" Lightning asked. Sazh found himself thrown off guard by the shaky quality to her voice.

"He's being tended to, okay?"

"I asked where he was," Lightning barked, and there was the anger that Sazh had been expecting.

"Lightning, you need to calm-"

She stepped toward him, murder in her eyes, and grabbed his collar. "I'm calm. Now tell me where he is or I'll find him myself."

Her tone was noticeably more measured, but she was the opposite of calm, a tremor quaking her body, her temper super charged and crackling. Sazh thought back to Lightning's break down, finding her half-conscious on the forest floor. Sazh had always thought Serah as Lightning's Achilles heel, but maybe the woman had grown a second fatal weakness.

Sazh knew that he couldn't beat the woman in a contest of strength. So instead of trying and failing to pull himself free, Sazh settled his hands over hers. "He's alright. He's bein' taken care of and you can see him as soon as they're done. You don't wanna get in the doc's way of fixin' him, do ya?"

"Tch, fine." She sat in one of the waiting room chairs, glaring at Sazh like it was his fault. "I hear you." Her eyes scanned the room before settling back on Sazh as he sat in a chair in front of her. "You can tell me what happened."

Sazh kicked his legs out, stretching out his locking knees. His joking about his age was becoming less and less humorous as the years continued. Night had settled into his bones, made his joints sore and his mind weary. The rush and excitement of Hope's return had burned off, leaving him with reality pangs. "He was found by guards at the perimeter. They said he came runnin' up to 'em with an injured woman in his arms. From what we saw of her, she looked close to death. Hope wasn't-" _much better_ , Sazh was going to say, but he swallowed the words back up, knowing that anything he said would make the difference in facing a calm, logic-bound Lightning, versus an emotionally distraught one.

"What woman?"

"We think she was another victim of the people who took Hope. She didn't have the same injuries, but-"

Lightning's breath hitched. Her heels dug into the legs of the chair as she sat forward. "Injuries?" She looked wound tight, a clock ignoring its instinct to chime.

Sazh nodded slowly, formulating his sentences. "Along with some wounds obvious from fightin' off the wilds of Pulse... it looks like... he was indeed... _tortured_." Sazh spit it out like he was expelling poison. The mere idea of it made Sazh want to storm into the operating room and shield the man from any further harm. He couldn't imagine how Lighting felt.

Lightning jumped up from her chair, but her expression didn't change. It was eerily stricken of emotion, a blank slate and Sazh wanted her to fall apart, cry, scream, throw a fit. He couldn't read her and it caused his concern to flourish. She paced in front of him, back and forth, back and forth, a pendulum in movement and execution.

He wanted to reach out, stand and comfort her, but he didn't want to end up with a broken jaw. He decided to let his words do the soothing. "He's goin' to be fine, Lightning. The doctors said that-" She gave him an intense scowl. She wanted the truth, raw and real and ugly. No dressings. No sugary coating. "He's got alotta serious injuries and he'll need alotta time before he can- but he's gonna be all right. He's alive."

"You said that he already was all right. There's a difference between alive and all right, Sazh. Tell me the truth. How bad is it?!"

The room quieted. A light flashed in their direction and Lightning seized the onlooker's device before dunking it into a cup of coffee nearby.

"Anyone else want to test me right now?" Lightning asked the room. Her gaze cut across the people surrounding them. One researcher 'eeped' as she fled to the other side of the room. "Bunch of heartless bastards. Waiting for a show. Waiting for juicy gossip."

"Enough of that." Sazh steered Lightning toward the hallway just in time for Rygdea to step through the ER doors.

His face was grave, yet Sazh didn't miss the hope pushing through the undercurrent of his expression. As his gaze raised from the floor to the two of them, he made his way over. "Okay, Lightning, give him a break."

"How's Hope?" Lightning asked, tearing herself from Sazh's grip.

"He's recovering."

"I thought his injuries were... How can they be done already?" Confusion plunged Lightning's brow and she turned to Sazh. "How long ago did you find him?"

Sazh glanced a plea Rygdea's way, because he really, _really_ didn't want to be the bearer of this news. "Four hours ago." Sazh braced for the impact of a fist, a knee, a whiplash of harsh words. Rygdea stepped in before Lightning's outrage could explode.

"It was my orders to keep this quiet, Lightning. We-"

"Quiet from me?! How could you-"

"No, Lightning," Rygdea said.

Sazh could feel an anger rise in Rygdea as he faced Lightning. He could feel it surfacing within himself, because this wasn't about Lightning. Hope needed medical attention and they had much more pressing concerns than Lightning's hurt feelings.

"Can we see him?" Sazh asked.

"He's still unconscious, heavily sedated, but yes you can." Lightning perked, and it brought a knowing smile to Rygdea's lips.

"How's the woman?" Sazh asked, "The Zalera girl that Hope brought with him?"

Rygdea pulled his ponytail out, shaking his hair free and fingering the tie. "She's still in surgery. Her lacerations were deep. If what you expect is true, then Hope probably-" Sazh shot Rygdea a look, turning his expression out of Lightning's sight with a tilt of his head.

"What?" Lightning stared hard at Rygdea, gouging her question into his forehead.

"I think that Lightning oughta see him first," Sazh said, a hand at Lightning's back gently urging her to the door.

Before she could say another word, Rygdea signaled a soldier to them. Rygdea told the man to take Lightning to the director's room and stand guard outside until she was finished. It served to derail Lightning's inquiry well enough as she surged forward on the soldier's heels.

"That was close," Sazh breathed.

"I forgot." Rygdea ran a hand down his face, shaking his head at himself. "You're right. You're completely right. It's his to tell her."

"He had it hidden for a reason. I doubt that we were supposed to see it, but... I just can't believe it."

Sazh was grateful to the doctors who swore that they would keep that section of Hope's arm covered, but he knew that Lightning would sniff it out.

It was only a matter of time.

* * *

Apprehension seized Lightning's limbs, left her stiff and unmoving outside of Hope's hospital room. Emotions grew inside of her like weeds - anxiety, guilt, fear, pain - sprouting and spreading, overwhelming her as the vines tugged her back and the thorns pricked her insides.

_"Along with some wounds obvious from fightin' off the monsters of Pulse... it looks like... he was indeed... tortured."_

Lightning couldn't stop her brain from remembering Yeul. The look in her eyes. The fear. The pain. How light she had been in her arms. The mutilation of her body.

_Is that what you had to go through, Hope? Is that what I put you through?_ Tears washed ashore, pushed against her eyelids. She pushed them back as she shoved her fingers into her eyes _. I should have come for you. I should have protected you. How am I supposed to face you? I have no right- No._ Lightning hovered her hand over the switch. _You will face this, Farron. Hope will need your support. He deserves that much._

The moment Lightning laid her eyes on him, she wanted to scream. She wanted to break the people who took him, cut them into itty bitty pieces and make mincemeat out of them. She would make them feel her wrath.

Hope didn't look like the Hope that she knew. Or even the new Hope that she had adjusted herself to.

_How could I let this happen?_

There were bandages and wraps and stitches and bruises and burns left from restraints and Lightning couldn't stop staring at it all. It was like witnessing a collision and she couldn't tear her eyes away from the carnage. Even without the obvious injuries, Lightning could see the toll that captivity had taken on his body. His skin held a yellow tinge. It practically hung off of his bones, his ribs visible, the bones of his shoulders and elbows protruding sharply. Malnourished didn't begin to cover how Hope looked. It didn't accurately describe how emaciated he was. His eyes were sunken in, plunged into what looked like black holes. His lips were cracked, crusted with scabs.

Lightning felt herself shudder. This… gentle, caring soul had been through too much. His body had been violated, defiled, mutilated. She couldn't see what they did to his mind, couldn't measure how deep the wounds penetrated. Lightning saw how war affected soldiers as they'd returned from other nations on Cocoon, thanked the goddess that she hadn't been deployed to those far reaches as she was kept protected under Amodar's wing. She heard the stories, saw some of the men that had been rescued after being captured and interrogated.

Hope looked like them.

Except Hope hadn't been saved. He saved himself.

He clawed his own way out of hell.

Lightning couldn't touch him. She wanted to. It was an instinct inside of her, like when she sought to comfort him with a hug in their darkest times, or when she held his hand to put him at ease. She feared touching him now, worried over what would cause pain.

If her touch would be rejected.

What if Hope didn't want her? This liar. This laughable excuse for a protector.

_They called me your guardian. What a joke. I made fools out of all of us._

With a shuddering breath, she brought a hand to the drooping, greasy spikes of his hair and brushed it from his eyes. _Why you? Why did it have to be you?_

Something twisted in her intestines as her gaze fell to Hope's wrist. There was a strip of green fabric there, and Lightning remembered the yellow strip that Hope used to use to cover his brand. It stirred a savage aggression in Lightning. This dirty, green material. She told herself to stay calm. That it didn't mean anything. That their brands were gone. There was no way that it could be covering what she thought it was covering.

Lightning slid the cloth up his wrist.

She wanted to think it a nightmare. She would wake up and Hope would still be missing.

Missing, but at least Hope would still be himself.

In a huff of disbelief, she ripped the fabric from his arm, exposing the offending mark to the world. There it was. In all its glory. The hideous brand that they had worked so hard to fight off was back on his wrist and there was no denying it. He was a l'Cie once again.

_I've failed you. Even more than I thought I had. I... let them do all of these... things to you and now you are..._

She couldn't process it. It was too much. All she wanted was to have him back, but now... with him in front of her... she was faced with the harsh reality that she had abandoned him. It didn't matter why, that lives were on the line, she abandoned him.

She knew that she could never forgive herself for it.

Lightning dropped herself down into a chair. Her eyes didn't leave the mark. It wasn't red and black. It wasn't white. It was blue. It was a bright, icy blue. It looked elegant, beautiful and in another world maybe that mark wouldn't have spelled doom. But it did. Its appearance deceived, belied its true nature.

Lightning closed her eyes, turning away from Hope's fate as a l'Cie prisoner. She looked back up at his face. Calmness washed over her - the kind of calmness only Hope could instill in her. He was back. He was physically and most certainly emotionally damaged, far from Sazh's claims of 'all right,' but he was back.

He was by her side.

* * *

"Sazh... please... I just-"

"I know, Nivien, but he's okay. Really, he is and he's asleep right now. You can't speak with him yet."

Nivien came in ten minutes before, ranting and screeching about not being told, about having to hear it from the gossip mill of the lower ranks. Sazh had to apologize once again, rushing an explanation that felt inadequate, insincere. Cass stood by her side, his hands that reached out in comfort and concern being smacked away each time.

"What about my brother? Did Hope say- Do they have anything?"

"No. There's still no news about him or the rest of the team."

Sazh watched the pain tremble Nivien's knees, how it made her fall back against Cass and Sazh reached to help her stay standing. Cass turned them away from Sazh's hand, disappointment in the cut of his glance. This was the part that Sazh hated the most about working with the army. Orders were orders. If he was told to withhold information, he did it. Cass rubbed Nivien's back slowly. Sazh let him calm her, waited until she looked back at him. "As soon as Hope wakes up, we'll ask him, but we have to be patient."

Nivien's eyes squeezed shut as she struggled to breathe through her sobs. "I still… I still want to see him."

Sazh hesitated. Cass caught it, as he always did. The catch of Sazh's voice, the twitch of his hands, the way his eyes glanced over towards Hope's room. Cass' eyes trailed Sazh's gaze and that too smart kid figured everything out on his own. "You will," Cass cajoled, holding her face, ducking his forehead down to meet hers. "Hope is in bad shape. We have to think about him right now. He needs rest… I think… It would be best if…"

"Lightning's in with him... isn't she?"

Sazh closed his eyes to the scene, settled himself back against the wall, his head thunking against it. Nivien's heart was cracking in her eyes and Sazh couldn't stomach the show. _You sure do know how to leave a mark, Hope…_

"Yeah," Cass said, a cautious whisper, "She's the director's bodyguard, right? Now that Hope's back, I've been relieved of duty. She has to be in there."

"Don't bullshit me, Cass."

"Right. Sorry. It's just… You know Lightning. She-"

"She lacks restraint."

"I have to wait too, you know?" Cass snapped, "It's not just you."

Sazh nodded those words back at himself. They all had to wait, and the line was getting long.

* * *

Hope had yet to wake. Lightning sat beside him, her hand parallel to his, fingers mere centimeters apart. Lightning could feel his warmth, the calm current of his energy.

She stared at his face, waiting for a flutter of lashes or a hiccup of breath. _Is it really that bad, Hope? Why haven't you woken up yet?_

_What if… What if you never wake up…?_

Lightning rejected the thought, didn't want to think of days and nights in a quiet hospital room. "I'll wake you myself," Lightning said as she gripped onto his finger. "I will climb into that thick head and drag you out here."

Hope didn't answer. Didn't stir.

A light tap on Hope's door had Lightning letting go to drop back into her chair.

Sazh stepped in, his head ducked. "How's he doing?"

"He's... the same. From what I can tell." Lightning pushed her bangs from her eyes, glancing at a monitor full of nonsense. Her medical field training did not prepare her for anything like this. "How's the woman?"

The door swooshed shut behind him, and Sazh unloaded an armful onto the windowsill. "You wouldn't believe the amount of crap that people have been piling out there. It's almost like we have a celebrity here." There were presents, cards, stuffed animals, a gift basket. Sazh had to untie a bundle of balloons from around his wrist just to tether them to another chair before he settled himself into it. His hand slipped over Hope's. Without hesitation. Without a thought. "She's in surgery. She lost too much blood, but-" Sazh's gaze cut over to Hope, and Lightning knew exactly what he was spying for.

"Yeah, I noticed. I can't believe it." Lightning looked back down at Hope, feeling a quake in her chest, the emotion rumbling into her expression. "We were so sure that they took him because of his position. The fact that he was an ex-l'Cie…" Lightning shoved the emotions back, built up a wall to keep them concealed.

"Why do you do that?"

"What?" Lightning caught Sazh's frown, the way his eyes were dissecting her every movement.

"Keep everyone out? Stay stoic when you want to scream? When you're depressed or worried or anxious? I saw it, Lightning, when you came in the hospital. I saw it in your eyes, in your actions, in your tears that are there inside of you right now. Ready to burst through this dam you've created. Why can't you just show that you care about him?"

Lightning looked over at the gifts. She stared at the way Sazh gripped onto Hope's hand. "I don't understand. What do I have to do with-"

"Maker, Light, seriously? This kid cares so much for you. Do you know how much it would mean to him if he knew how much _you_ cared? Why do you have to keep everything bot-"

"Stop!" Lightning yelled, then she spoke lower, her voice stretching, ready to pounce. "You don't know anything. Hope and I- We…" Lightning's head spun, her hands clenching on the railing of Hope's bed. Her knuckles turned white, and she imagined bending and twisting the railing because she couldn't speak. She didn't understand. Cass, Sazh, they seemed to understand everything. They acted like they knew what was in Hope's mind, had read and memorized the encyclopedia to his heart.

They didn't know hers. She kept it locked down, encoded and barred from intrusive eyes. Even Lightning didn't know what she felt inside. She hid it all in the darkest caverns of her chest. Left it in a language that could no longer be translated.

Lightning didn't like feeling cornered like this. She liked being told how she felt even less.

"I'm sorry. That was... uncalled for and..."

"Why?" Lightning asked, "Why do you... care?"

"I- I care because you're family. I care about your feelings, your thoughts. Ever since our time together as l'Cie, I've considered all o' you my family. O'course I care. Think about your love for Serah. Don't glare at me like she's unspeakable, some 'she who shall not be named.' You love her the same way that I love you. We may not be blood, Lightning, but our bond is strong enough that we don't have to be. I care about you and you know what? No one cares for you more than this kid, right here."

Sazh pointed, stabbed a finger straight at Hope's swollen face. Lightning shook her head. She kept shaking her head. She knew Hope cared, but how did she repay him? She took his affection and respect and trust and mutilated it.

Turned her back on it.

"You have no idea how much he ached while you were crystal."

Sazh's words shot through her chest, penetrated her heart, ricocheted and splintered into every rib. Lightning didn't want to hear this. She didn't want to know Hope's suffering. The _years_ that he spent alone. In a new world. As he kept losing the people that he loved. It would only lead to that same sick feeling, a trip into a downward spiral.

"I don't want to see him suffer anymore." Putting his hands on her shoulders, he turned the soldier toward him. "I know, even if you don't, that there's something here." Sazh took her hand, unimpeded by the way she bristled at the contact, and led it to lay over top of Hope's. "It's a lot to get your head around. I know. This kind of thing… it always is. But I want you to know that no matter what reason you come up with for denying your feelings, know that it will never be that he doesn't care for you."

Hope didn't cry out at the touch. He didn't pull from her. He stayed sound asleep, breaths rocking like ocean waves in his chest. She had to fight her instinct to hide, to brick up an impenetrable wall. Denial and confusion and aggression led her hand to her holster. It brushed against the metal, thoughts of campfires on Pulse drawing her hand away.

These l'Cie idiots were her family. So why didn't she treat them like family?

"You are so sure that you know how Hope feels," Lightning stated, inclining her head in challenge. "How? Where's your proof?"

Sazh's eyes widened, before he laughed with that deep, crackly chuckle of his. "There is no such thing as proof. Not with something like this."

"Don't give me some sappy shit, Sazh. How do you know?"

"Hope's a tinkerer. He is meticulous and compulsive with two things – research and tinkering. Whenever Hope wasn't busy with school or Academy duties or… Cocoon, he was working on a special project for you."

Lightning's head shot up, her hand instinctively tightening around Hope's.

"You," Sazh said, that father-knows-all grin out and proud. "Not for his father, or his friends, or Nivien, or any of the rest of us, but you. He wouldn't disclose what it was that he was working on, but it must have been important with the way Hope would hide it away. I have never actually seen Hope so tight-lipped about anything."

"So he was working on a project for me," Lightning said, and she could hear the skepticism souring her tone. "Big deal."

Sazh heaved a sigh, shaking his head. "So you became a soldier," Sazh shot back, "Big deal." He tossed the words back at her, a clue in their structure, but Lightning didn't understand. "I'm going to visit Zalera." Sazh left the room before Lightning could argue.

_I'm a soldier. What does that have to do with Hope?_

"Light?"

Lightning's gaze met Hope's, the arm that was holding up her head plopping down against the mattress. "Hope, you're…"

_Awake._

Hope stirred, roused awake like a gentle kitten twitching its nose, stretching its limbs. Hope could have been waking in his office, unfurling from the confines of her couch, like it was a normal, ordinary day. Hope's hand moved to his face, pressing his palm into his eyes, and Hope jerked to a stop. He looked at that hand like it was the strangest object in the world. He turned it this way and that, inspecting his wrist, gaze traveling down to the brand that seemed to click everything into place for him. "We made it out," Hope said, to himself, Lightning suspected. His vocal chords sounded like they had been through a grinder, but his voice exuded happiness. Contentment. He brought his hands up in front of his face, smiling through a wince as he swirled them around. "I can move…"

"You're in the hospital," Lightning said, then wished that she hadn't said anything at all. He had yet to notice her, but she cemented her presence.

Hope didn't look in her direction. His hands fell to his thighs, face twisting as he scooted to the other side of the bed. Away from her.

_Here it comes._

She expected this, but she didn't realize how much Hope's rejection would wound her.

"I'm so sorry, Light," Hope said, a broken whine in his throat.

Lightning surged forward, took him into her arms. He was so weak, rail-thin. She could feel his scabs, her arms reaching around blackened bruises. The embrace affirmed everything that she had observed of Hope, but it also refuted the one thing that she had felt most deeply when she first saw him.

Hope was Hope. Nothing could change him.

His hands inched up her back, arms shaking as they settled around her. "I shouldn't have left. I should have called. You were right. I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sor-"

"I'm sorry," Lightning said, speaking into his hairline. "You were taken and I- I should have saved you."

Hope shook harder, and Lightning tightened her hold as Hope sobbed. A burble of chuckles reached her ears and Lightning pulled back not to find tears, but laughter. "The damsel rescued herself this time."

Lightning found herself laughing too, tears forming in her eyes because Hope was still able to laugh and joke. He looked like a shell of himself, a husk. He wasn't. He was too strong for that. "You don't look like a damsel to me. You're a king, Hope." Her hand settled over Hope's wrist, acceptance in her touch as her finger traced over the markings of his brand. "A king and his castle."

* * *

Hope looked around at four walls, wishing he had a room with a view. He wanted to see Academia and feel the city around him. He wanted to smell the air, feel the sun, hear the rain. He wanted anything but the confinement of these four walls.

Rygdea and Amodar bracketed Hope, sitting at the sides of his bed, quiet and respectful and Hope didn't like it. He didn't want to be treated like a fragile object that was tagged 'handle with care.' He missed his family, their exuberance and the vivid laughter. Dinner at the café felt like a world away, but he would have preferred to take a lemon to the face while being interrogated by his distressed friends, to this.

It had been a handful of hours since he had awoken and it was time to get to business. His vitals and wounds had been checked over by so many eyes that Hope had lost track of the number of doctors that were on his case. Lightning, Sazh, Rygdea, and Amodar had all welcomed him home in their own ways. Hope's visitors had been limited to those four until he could make a statement. Hope's mind understood, even as his heart reacted differently, tugging toward his friends. Hope accepted the terms, said he was ready to make an official statement to Rygdea and Amodar alone.

Getting Lightning to leave was no easy task. It took Hope asking her himself, pleading with her for privacy and understanding. He didn't wish to hurt her by keeping secrets, but Hope didn't want her to know the gory details. He didn't want her to think any less of him, see him for who he was. Cowardly and weak.

The air in the room became suffocating as his sense of calm slipped through his hands. Hope didn't know if he could voice what he went through, cement it down into words. How do you describe something like that? A situation so terrifying and unreal, Hope would rather forget, let it sink back into the darkness that it had slithered out of.

"Hope?"

"I'm all right," Hope assured Rygdea. The man looked at him with kind eyes. There was a fire behind them, an anger that Rygdea couldn't conceal.

"Okay, first," Amodar began, "You were taken from Harleen Cemetery, correct? That was your first encounter with them?"

Hope placed himself in that defining moment, kneeling with wet cheeks, a woman in white staring him down. "Yes. They knew me. Had been watching me for years, but I never knew…" Hope could feel the eyes now, silvery, glowing eyes watching from every corner. "They attacked me all at once. Cornered me. Surrounded me. I tried to fight back. They… proved to be too much for me." Shame flared in his face, drew his eyes down, away from Rygdea. The man had been his teacher, trained him in combat and battle tactics. After such a disgraceful defeat, Hope didn't feel he deserved to call himself Rygdea's pupil.

"They knew you?" Amodar asked, tone dry, professional. "This group. How did they identify themselves?"

"Castea Hidon. She was their leader. I spoke with her the most. She… _enjoyed_ the conversations. The ones that I had with her. After a while… I did, too. It was a welcome reprieve from…" Amodar's gaze slipped to Hope's body, and Hope sunk down further into his covers. "She had numerous people working under her, men and women. All l'Cie, like her. Sebastian was her go-to. He's the one who… interacted with me and Zalera the most."

"Sebastian, you said? Did he look like this?" Amodar held up a picture, a drawing of a man.

"No… That's Barsilisk. He- I only ever saw him once. Zalera killed him when we escaped. Where did you get that sketch?"

"We… will get back to that."

"Sebastian was one of Castea's underlings. Nothing about him stood out except… He had scars around his wrists and neck. He said that they were from Lightning. He said that he fought her."

There. A flicker in Amodar's gaze as he pulled up another sketch. "This man?"

"Yes. Yeah, that's him."

Amodar shifted, passing the picture to a stiff Rygdea. "Do you have any memory of where they kept you?"

"The Eighth Ark. It's at the base of Mt. Lazarre of the Riviera mountain region."

"You were that close," Rygdea breathed.

"It allowed me to get back faster, right?" Hope tried, but he only received a bland smile in return.

Rygdea scribbled down something on a piece of paper, calling out into the hall and passing it off. "Initiate a thorough search of the area," he said to a Cavalry soldier.

"When we… escaped, the Ark crumbled. I imagine that it's in ruins now. Alexander packed… quite the punch…"

"And what of your captors?" Amodar asked.

Hope remembered Castea's twisted body, the sight of rocks tumbling down upon Sebastian. "Dead." There was a glimmer that dimmed in Amodar and Rygdea's eyes. Hope thought it odd at first, until he remembered what he had been told after waking.

A search team had been taken.

_Did I sign their death certificates the minute that Alexander broke loose?_

_Did I… crush them in there?_

Amodar moved on. "You used the term 'interactions.' What does that mean?"

"They kept us immobile, bound. Zalera was already imprisoned there when they… took me. She had been taken with Yeul, used against her in order to get information."

"What information?"

"They wanted to know about the crystals. Their locations."

"Did they find out?" Rygdea blurted with a white-knuckled grip on his knees. "Did you?"

"I was right." A touch of pride lightened Hope's heart. "One of them is in Etro's castle."

"But where? We searched every inch of that place."

Hope held up his arm, slipping the scrap of Zalera's skirt down to reveal his brand. "It can only be found by a l'Cie. More specifically, me."

"I think we're getting ahead of ourselves here," Amodar interrupted, tapping a finger down on the screen of his autographer. "What did they do in order to extract information?"

Hope skirted around the core of his capture for long enough. It was time to reveal how pathetic he was. Hope stared at his covers, his monitors, his scraped up hands. Not at the judgmental looks that would be coming his way. He didn't need them to tell him what he already knew. That he should have fought harder to get free, that he should have been stronger and tougher in the hands of his captors.

That he shouldn't have given in at the most crucial moment and doomed the whole of humanity.

"Th-They told me that it was to bring back my brand. That I was some sort of… some sort of key." Hope sniffed, his voice shaky. There was gunk in his throat. Stuck and oozing. Red and black. Overflowing. He was going to choke- "That's what they wanted. Why they took me. I'm a- a means to bring back the maker. It's their focus, they said."

"You sound like you doubt that."

"Castea, she-"

_"You shall use the crystal to bring the Maker back to this world. It shall be rebuilt as a new world, made only for those who deserve it and those powerful enough to rule it."_

"She sounded thrilled by her focus. Not a prisoner of fate, but a co-creator of conflict."

"How did you find out about Yeul?"

"Through Zalera."

"So… they wanted information about the crystal fragments from Yeul, and your brand from you?" Hope nodded and Amodar watched his autograher's notes in real time. His lips popped as he readied his next question. "How did they go about achieving their focus?"

Hope felt like he was bleeding again. He was hemorrhaging on a table, a knife digging deeper to dredge up more.

"They tortured me. And Zalera."

"They?"

"Sebastian, mostly."

"I'm sorry." Amodar pressed his finger down on his tablet much harsher than necessary, his professional expression bowing with his head. "I am so very sorry to do this to you, Hope."

"I understand, General."

He clicked against the screen and began again. "Was there a process to bringing back your brand? Did they explain any of it to you?"

"Something about needing to strip me of my humanity to reach some sort of enlightenment. I didn't understand!" Hope shouted, and tears sprang free, flooding out of nowhere. He tried to hold them back, commanded himself not to cry, not to be weak, but they didn't heed his demands. "Why they- they had to keep d-doing this. With knives and magic and- and- then they would heal us. Heal us! Just to keep going and going and going and going and going."

Hope stopped to breathe. Inoutinoutinoutinoutinoutinout until a nurse came in, instructing him to slow his breaths as she guided a mask over his face. Hope shook his head, refusing the contraption. He didn't want it. He didn't want to be strapped down by anything.

"Sometimes they wouldn't heal it. They would leave us to bleed. Let our skin and tissue die. Sebastian knew just how to hurt us. He would even chop-" Hope hiccupped a sob, his leg twitching beneath the blankets. It still didn't feel like his limb. Like it was somebody else's. Some stranger's leg sewn onto his body. "They would chop parts off. Take parts of us away."

There was a screech of metal before it clanged against the floor. Hope closed his eyes, flinching at the sound, the suddenness of it. He couldn't control how his heart raced, fear rushing adrenaline that made him want to run. He heard Rygdea curse. Then a loud thump and a crushing noise.

"Captain Karsten!" Amodar reprimanded, but his voice sounded strained.

"I can't do this! I can't-" Rygdea huffed a breath. "I'm sorry. Hope. Hope, don't be afraid. I'm sorry."

Hope took that as a cue of safety, opening his eyes to find Rygdea across the room. His chair was flipped over on the floor. Rygdea was holding his hand, standing next to fist-sized crack in the wall.

"The hardest part-" Hope pulled the covers up from his leg. Wiggling his nail-less toes, he wondered if he had ever been as pale as his leg was. It was no longer as pink as a salamander. "It wasn't the cutting or the tearing of our limbs or the loss. It was the regrowth. They would pump so much magic into our bodies that our veins would turn black as if we were fueled by poison. We would choke on the excess. Black blood flooding our mouths and dribbling from our eyes."

"It can do that?" Amodar asked, expression open with wonder.

"Zalera called it Maguria. A magic sickness."

"You're sick?" Rygdea croaked.

"No. No. It… I don't know how, but they were able to expel the excess, too."

"How did you escape?" Amodar asked.

"Alexander," Hope replied, smiling as he felt the eidolon's presence in his chest. It was a strange sensation. Like having a pet beside you, calming. "My brand came back and so did Alexander. He's a big guy," Hope laughed. "He practically took the place down by himself. I took the opportunity to free myself and Zalera. We barely escaped before it collapsed."

"Just a few last questions, Hope, okay?" Amodar said. He laid a hand on Hope's leg before he ripped it away. Hope covered it back up with an awkward smile. "Will you sit back down, Rygdea?"

"Nope. I'm good here."

"Will you swallow your feelings for once and do as you're told?" Amodar snapped.

Hope rose a brow, gaze vacillating between the two of them.

Rygdea stiffened, and Hope was surprised as the man righted his chair and sat back down.

"Did Sebastian really fight Light?" Hope asked, because it never left his mind. Seeing her had righted his world, grounded him back down onto the ground. But he had to know.

"Yeah," Rygdea confirmed. "She said that a group attacked her. Same choreography as with you. She killed them all. At least… that was what she said. How advanced were their healing powers? Is it possible to bring someone back to life? Did they-"

"They didn't revive us. I don't… think they did anyway. I wouldn't have thought it possible before, but I wouldn't doubt their capabilities now. Sebastian had scars. He said that they were from Light."

Amodar nodded, before his gaze sharpened. "It was just you and Zalera being held in the ark? No one else?"

Hope swallowed. He folded his hands, focused his growing sense of helplessness on squeezing his fingers together. "I didn't see or hear any others. If they were there… They weren't," Hope decided. "They weren't there. They couldn't have been there."

"Okay," Amodar accepted, because what else was he going to do? "Did Castea or Sebastian or any of these people tell you about the fal'Cie that they were connected to?"

"No. On that, Castea revealed nothing. Nothing at all."

* * *

Cass squatted outside of Hope's hospital room, back against the wall, his PORT64 in hand. Earbuds in, he checked out from the world. His thumbs moved his ferret kart in circles on the screen, but his mind was on other matters. He could still feel Nivien's tears on his body, though the stains had long since dried. Alyssa's voice was still in his ears, screeching in that shrill, excited voice that Hope was safe.

The beloved Prince Hope had returned, and all was right with the world.

A bitterness slipped in, a stealthy assassin twisting its knife into Cass' heart. There was a coldness as he fell into his usual position, cast into shadows too tall to climb free from. Hope had one of the tallest, largest shadows. Cass had been sheltered by it, protected in it.

Imprisoned inside of it.

Despite the ill feelings souring his stomach, Cass did long to see Hope. Days before the fall were a far off memory, but Hope had been his knight in shining armor. He hadn't been exaggerating to Lightning just how much he idolized his 'brother.' He just never knew how such feelings of adoration could twist and slither into feelings of resentment and disdain.

Cheers rang through Cass' ear buds. He looked down to watch his ferret dude take a victory lap around the lane before he was up on a podium, hoisting up a trophy. The other cartoonish woodland creatures picked him up, tossing him in the air with wide smiles. Cass could only wonder how the other creatures felt, smiling and laughing and celebrating another's win. They were losers. Cass didn't understand why their smiles were so wide.

His ankle began to itch. That unscratchable burn returned, and his nails scraped into it. There was a tap on his shoulder. Cass quickly pulled his hand away, pulling down his pant leg over his ankle, and yanking free his headphones. Hildough stood over him, patience and understanding in his expression as he waited for Cass to rejoin the world.

"He would like to see you now," the man said, still as tall and polite and imposing as ever in his swanky suit with that impeccable smile.

"What are you, his butler?" Cass asked, wrapping his cord around his device and slipping it into his pocket as he stood off of the wall, "There are worse jobs. Thanks, man."

The burning intensified as he neared the room. It took everything in him not to rip his fingernails across the jut of bone beneath his sock. "The stiff ambassador gets to see you before your best friend," Cass said, flashing a wounded look. "Thanks bunches, Hope."

Hope laughed, a thready, lifeless thing that didn't sound right coming from him. Apology squished his features, his hand rubbing at the side of his face. Over bandages. Around scratches and scabs. "It's not like I'm making everyone go in order of importance."

"So… it's first come first serve? You a buffet now?"

"It's not-"

"Save it." Cass clapped a hand onto Hope's knee, the only part of his body that didn't look bloated with bandages. It was still easy to fluster the man. Cass couldn't help but draw something familiar out of the corpse in front of him. "I'm glad that you're back."

"Uh-heh. I… I heard that you stepped in for me. Thank you, Cass. I know it can't have been easy."

"You're saying that to me when you look like a movie monster right now? All I had to do was kick back and suffer through a few hand cramps. And Alyssa's helicopter parent hovering. And Lightning almost mutilating me every other hour. Okay. Maybe I do need some props."

"Props given. I'm glad that I appointed you."

Cass shook off the sentiment like it was crawling with cooties. "If this is going to be one of those mushy bromance moments, then I may just have to run in the other direction."

"Don't make me tackle you in a hug," Hope warned.

"You wouldn't dare," Cass challenged, narrowing his eyes. "You would trip and break something in the state you're in."

"A risk I am willing to take."

"I'm not. You know how many people would kill me if I hurt the precious director? The women alone would skin me alive and turn me into a fashionable tote bag."

"I think you would be more suited to a clutch purse, maybe," Hope laughed.

"I thought you couldn't sound any more like a girl." Cass gave in, hugging Hope with as much emotion as he did the last time Hope got himself stuck in the hospital. "We need to hurry and re-man you before it's too late."

"Re-man?"

"Yup. Let the belchathon commence." Cass burped, open mouthed, leaning into Hope's face.

"You never get tired of that, do you?" Hope waved the smell away, pinching his nose.

"Never."

"Look. I don't know how to say it, but… I'm sorry, Cass. You came through for me. For the city. I've been freezing you out, but you have to know that it was out of concern. Not for any other reason. You are my friend. You always will be. I didn't handle our conflict correctly and I was stressed with the new position and my dad. I am sorrier than you know."

_You gave up on me_ , Cass wanted to say as the rock in his throat became a boulder. "I get it. I'm just a bum in the backseat in your life."

"Our friendship means the world to me," Hope said. It wiped the grin from Cass' cheeks, cleansed the burn of his ankle.

Cass felt himself stand a little straighter. It was like when Nivien used to smack a hand against his spine, 'correcting that ogre slouch.' "I'm gonna get before this turns into a love fest." Cass clapped his hand in Hope's, shaking the hold loose before they bumped their thumbs together. A child's sign of friendship, one of their remaining connections. "I'm sure Lightning is dying to get back in here," Cass left with a wink as Hope chucked a box of tissues over Cass' head.

"Speak of the devil." Lightning stood against the wall, arms crossed. "Ever the loyal guard dog." Lightning's jaw tightened, but her attention perked toward another direction. Nivien was heading their way, tense and primed for battle. She was a woman on a mission and no one was going to stop her.

_How do I always get stuck with such dangerous, headstrong women?_

"Go easy on him, Nivien." Cass headed her off, hands up to halt her steps.

"What?"

"I know that you want to find your brother, but Hope doesn't know where he is."

Nivien looked away, tears encroaching upon the corners of her eyes until she caught sight of Lightning. Her expression hardened and that battle-ready look turned fierce. "I want to see him."

"Is that wise?"

"I don't think you get to advise me on what is wise."

Cass didn't let her words affect him, didn't let them sink deep enough to hurt. Yet. "You're still angry with him. I can see it." Cass glanced in Lightning's direction before turning his body like a blockade. "We all can see it. I'm not saying that you don't deserve to be angry, just that this is not the time or place to express it. Hope… Our best friend is in pretty bad shape."

Nivien's gaze zoomed back to meet Cass'. He could feel her emotions, and it hurt to face them. He hated doing this. Being a bridge. He missed the simple days when it was just the three of them goofing around. Instead of the two of them and Cass as an extra.

"I'm asking you to let that anger go for now. Be there for him. Like you used to."

* * *

Cass walked away, his gait a touch more sluggish than was usual for the young man. Nivien was left behind, standing there as she blinked her thoughts into the floor. Lightning ignored much of their interaction. She knew when to keep her nose clean.

She could feel Nivien's eyes on her, hostility aimed in her direction until Lightning looked. But Nivien was no longer there. She was walking toward Hope's room, shoulders tight, head high.

Lightning wanted Rygdea to come. Amodar, maybe. Anyone with authority. A possessiveness surged forward, cramping Lightning's chest and she wanted someone to stop Nivien. Keep her from stressing Hope over her brother. Ward her away so she couldn't heave any accusations Hope's way when he was in such a fragile state.

Mostly, Lightning just wanted Nivien gone.

Poof. Like she had never been.

The strings tying Hope and Nivien together were still many, still strong despite the bitterness. The emotions still present in them were evidence enough of that. Lightning shouldn't care. She shouldn't want to cut those ties. She should want Hope to be happy, let happiness come to him in any form, whether that be in another woman's arms or not.

Sazh asked her what it was that she and Hope had. He asked her to face her feelings.

Cass told her that Hope's feelings for Lightning were strong. Stronger than his feelings for Nivien.

Lightning was still trying to figure out which way was up. She didn't know anything about Hope's feelings or her own. She didn't know if she wanted to know. Once she knew, she would have to do something about it.

And that… that was something that Lightning Farron could admit to being afraid of.

"Just came to give Hope the news," Rygdea said as he approached. "Zalera's awake and doing better."

Then there was her. Zalera. A stranger. A woman tethered to Hope with strings that Lightning couldn't see or understand. Her suspicions of the woman were high, hairs standing on end. "Has she said anything about their captivity?"

"It's been difficult getting any useful information out of her. She's been asking for Hope. Flipping out when they tried to sedate her. I guess… It shouldn't feel as strange as it does. Her being dependent on him when we know nothing of her." Rygdea dropped a bag from his shoulder. It was a purple, flowery thing, full of muck and dust. The red stains curdled Lightning's blood. "This seemed to upset her the most."

"Is it her's"

"Yeul's. That's about as much as I could find out about it." Rygdea's voice was grave. Lightning wondered if he had seen the dead girl's body, knew of the traumatized woman that he was speaking of. "She's giving us the silent treatment now. Zipped her trap the minute she found out that Hope was okay and said she wouldn't say anything more until she saw him. The woman's a stubborn mule. You two would get along famously."

A loud crash sounded from around the corner followed by a demanding voice. "I don't care! You better get the hell outta my way before I beat your ass."

"Ah, hell. I told her to stay put."

As soon as Rygdea said that, a woman came into view in a hospital gown. She was unwavering in her stead despite the way she leaned heavily on the railing along the wall. She had waist-length green hair threaded with multicolored beads. Her eyes were about as green as her hair, vivid in their intensity as opposed to the paler tone of Hope's. An abundance of freckles were scattered across her nose and cheekbones. She held a fraction of Hope's wounds, spiking Lightning's suspicions. A doctor was at her side, frustration written on his face as he tried to stop her. A nurse followed closely behind, pushing a wheelchair and the woman sneered at it and the man all the same.

Rygdea made his way toward her, his hand raking back through his hair. "What on Pulse are you-"

"Don't even try it," Zalera yelled. The ferocity to her voice made Lightning's eyebrows raise in surprise. "I'm not an invalid. I don't need to lay bedridden like some worthless victim and I most certainly am not being carted around in a damn chair." She pushed her way through the men blocking her path toward Hope's room. Her breath hitched and she held her side, but she kept moving.

"You're going to rip open your stitches," the doctor said in an exasperated huff.

Lightning bit her lip at the familiarity. The woman reminded her of Fang. That strong, wild stubbornness. Respect blossomed, and Lightning took an instant liking to her. "Why don't you all get out of her way. It's obvious that she has a place to be and all you're doing is making her trek worse and more laborious."

The group stopped, staring at Lightning. Zalera tilted her head, her eyes running over the length of Lightning. Zalera pushed herself off of the wall, walked her way to Lightning on unsteady feet. Zalera stood high above Lightning, aura projecting strength and fortitude.

"You must be Lightning." Zalera bowed her head, sowing seeds of confusion into Lightning's mind at not only the gesture, but the fact that she knew her name. "We had plenty of time to chat, Hope and I," she said by way of explanation. "Thanks for the interference. They are impossible."

" _We're_ the impossible ones?" Rygdea asked, but went ignored.

"I like her already," Lightning said after the woman disappeared into Hope's room.

* * *

It was an odd mixture of feelings that Hope found himself assailed with as people filtered into his room. He was glad to be surrounded by the people that he cared about. To see their smiles. Feel their warm, familiar presences. Yet he felt like a ghost in the room, a mere intangible bystander. He no longer felt like he belonged. These were his people, his family. Hope knew that, but as he looked around at Sazh, Lightning, Amodar, Rygdea, Hildough – he couldn't help but see them as strangers. Zalera sat beside him and though their time together had been short, their connection was undeniable. Hope didn't understand this odd reversal. He spent so much time aching for home, wishing for his old life. It was difficult to accept that he was back. Could he step back into his old shoes that now felt like the discarded identity of an entirely different person?

There was a fear present inside of him that burdened the adjustment as well. Hope kept wondering whether this was real. If he would wake up to that table, his body butchered by Sebastian's knife as all of this had been nothing but a delusion that he escaped into. Reality had been bent too many times for Hope to trust it now.

"I know that we want to make this quick," Rygdea began, "so our director here can get some rest."

"Right." Amodar sat forward in his chair, turning on his autographer. "The first topic that I suggest we discuss is the future of the crystal mission. Each of us have our own varied interests and investments in this, but I'm concerned about the potential risks and-"

"If I may, General," Hope said, and even his voice sounded wrong, distant. "I think... I know that the conception of this mission was my idea, its future my responsibility. I have planted seeds of hope inside of everyone with this plan and I wanted to gift you with more than just hope, I did. I wanted so much for this to work and it could. It really could work. I won't lie about that…" Hope found himself staring at his brand, its eerie crystal etching. "However, I think that we should abort the mission."

"But, Hope," Sazh said, "this could-"

"I'm sorry, Sazh." Hope faltered as he glanced at a man who looked like he was losing his son all over again. Hope didn't know who apprised Sazh of the details of the mission, but he wished that they hadn't. If only Hope had kept it all to himself. If only he hadn't found that book. "I won't do it."

"I agree," Amodar said, "Why don't you explain your reasoning though, Director."

Hope's hand slipped into Zalera's on instinct. It was like they were making up for all of the time that they couldn't in the ark, clinging to each other physically now like they had emotionally and mentally in that dark chamber. "If Castea was correct – and according to Yeul's visions, she is – then the retrieval and use of the crystals depends on my ability to control my l'Cie powers. Say that I am able to find the crystals and successfully assemble them together. Say that Castea's group died, all of them, with absolute certainty, and that none of them will hunt me down. Say that the crystal is safe from all opposing forces. What if I'm not able to control the crystal's power?"

"I believe that you could do it."

"Thank you, Sazh. I wish I had your faith."

"Are we sure that it has to be you?" Hildough asked. "What about other l'Cie?"

"I've been told that I am this… chosen one. Destined for this. If there is another, I think we face the same issue. Could they handle the crystal's power?"

"What makes you so sure that you can't?" Lightning asked. There was an edge to her tone. Hope looked up and for the first time since their reunion she wasn't looking at him. Her stony expression was aimed at the wall. "You're a magical powerhouse."

Hope scrunched his lips to the side, unsuccessfully hiding a smile and the blush that crept up his cheeks. He swallowed the thrill at the praise. "I could kill everyone."

No one spoke. There wasn't a single denial, not one word of assurance. This was a gamble. Hope wild card and no one could see the outcome of such a play.

"I am a stranger here," Zalera said, her hand squeezing Hope's, almost suctioning his composure, though Hope didn't know why. Even in a strange land with strange people, her confidence was astounding. "I don't expect your trust or belief. Just know that I have knowledge of these crystals from Yeul. Hope has every right to fear their power. I have heard of Hope's ability and strength. I have seen some of it firsthand." Another squeeze, a crooked smile. "But I doubt that he could even hope to contain their power, let alone control it. This is a god's power that we are talking about. Yeul saw futures of Hope decimating the planet due to his handling of the crystals. Are we willing to take that risk?"

Zalera remained strong as she spoke. Yeul was a chink in her armor, but her words didn't trip. She didn't break down. Pride slipped into Hope's chest, caused his grim mood to lighten.

"So do we all agree?" Rygdea asked.

There were nods and yeas. Sazh was the only hold out, until he eventually jerked his head in affirmation.

"Lastly," Amodar glanced at Hope's wrist, his fingers tapping on his thigh. "We only have one more pressing matter to discuss. That brand of yours, Hope, and your new l'Cie status."

"What... What about it?"

"We think," Rygdea said, "that you should keep it hidden."

"No way."

"Why, Hope?" Lightning asked as she finally faced him. Her eyes landed on his and Zalera's handhold, then up to his wrist. "It would keep you safe and- It's no one's business but ours what happened to you whe-"

"No, Light." Surprised and shocked expressions surrounded him. A room full of guppies because he wasn't one to defy Lightning. Hope wasn't going to let that sway him. "I don't want to keep secrets from the public. We know how that goes. We've been victims of it ourselves. I will not keep this from Academia. I have a duty to my people and I will not lie to them." Hope faced Lighting, expecting an outburst. Fury scrunched her brows, curled her fists, but she said nothing.

"You can't be serious?" It was Rygdea that spoke in outrage, standing at the edge of Hope's bed, tall and angry and intimidating. "Do you know what this could do? How many people are still afraid of l'Cie? Hell, there's a city full of people that didn't want to associate with the _families_ of previous l'Cie. You don't think that they might take up arms and come gunning for you, Hope?" Rygdea shook his head, snatching up Hope's nurse call button. "I won't let you do this. You aren't mentally competent enough to make decisions right now."

"I'm perfectly sane, Rygdea."

"Obviously not!"

"Don't take my choices from me, Rygdea!" Hope yelled, tears pebbling his lashes. He stared down at the trenches in his wrists, wondering if he hadn't escaped from one prison only to walk into another. He wouldn't let anyone dictate his life for him. "I fought for my freedom. I won't let you take it from me." Hope felt a hand at his back, a soothing rub and he could have convinced himself that it was his mother, there to share his burdens. Hope shot Zalera a grateful smile.

The door opened, Hope's nurse popping his head in around the group with a frown.

"Get me his doctor, please," Rygdea insisted.

Hope pulled a hand through his hair, had a brief flash of Castea clawing through it. His frustration skyrocketed, but he didn't know what to do with it.

"I swore to your father that I'd watch over you. This is suicide. One assassination attempt wasn't enough for you?"

At that, Amodar pushed his way in between them. "I think that's enough."

"I can't even- How many more people do you want to lose?"

"Rygdea!"

Hope felt his heart thundering in his ears, a frantic rhythm stampeding in his chest. Was it getting hotter? Why did it feel like there was a truck on his chest?

"I think it's time that you all cleared out," Hope's nurse said, pulling his stethoscope from his neck. "This patient needs his rest. Get me Dr. Alton in here!" he shouted toward the hall.

"What if someone comes after you again, huh?" Rygdea asked, pushing against Amodar's barring arms. "What if you survive _yet again_ because of more people risking their lives?" Hildough stepped in, applying a hand to the advancing man's chest before he could do something regrettable to a general. "What if it's more guards or Nivien or Sazh or me or Lightning?"

"Hope, breathe," Zalera said, her voice slipping in and out. Everyone was getting blurry and he couldn't breathe even with her coaxing. There was a sharp beeping sound that startled him, roused him back to the goings on of the room.

"His BP is spiking." Someone's hands were on him, moving him. No, no he couldn't let them lay him back down there. He wouldn't let them touch him. Not again.

Wait, wasn't he in the hospital?

Rygdea.

Rygdea was mad at him.

"What would you do then?" Rygdea asked in an incensed ramble as the doctor pushed her way through. "I will not let you-"

"Move, Hildough." Hildough listened, stepping aside to let Lightning within range. "You're not helping anyone!" She kicked Rygdea swiftly in the gut, her attack careful and precise enough to miss the others in the room.

Rygdea grunted at the impact. He held his stomach, crouching down as he glared at Lightning.

"Need I remind you people that you are in a hospital?" Doctor Alton said. Her gloved hands were cold, touch less than gentle as she slipped a needle into Hope's skin. "Don't make me call security."

"Fine," Rygdea growled. He pushed himself up to talk into Lightning's face. "You talk some sense into the kid then. I don't know how you see it, but to me, it looks like he's gonna get himself killed. I won't stand for it."

No. This wasn't what Hope wanted. He was finally home. He wanted to be with his family. He didn't want to watch them fight, have them ripping out each other's throats over a dumb disagreement. He didn't want to lose them.

He couldn't.

They couldn't take them from him, too.

_Or_ , Hope wondered, _is this strife my fault?_

Hope began to think that maybe-

"Oxygen level is-"

-he shouldn't have come back.

* * *

Hope woke to Lightning at his side. She sat hunched over, her arms dangling between her knees, staring at the floor. The guilt snuggled up beside him, made Hope think that he should have stayed away, dealt with this himself, kept everyone safe. He knew how wrong that thought was, but it still tempted him. After losing the important people in his life, he wanted to bubble wrap who was left.

"A lively welcome home party," Lightning stated dryly, looking up from the linoleum. There was a humored twinkle in her eye, but he didn't miss the anger sitting low in her jaw, either.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

"How are you feeling?" Lightning's hand rested on his forehead, eyes scanning the monitor at his side. "Your breathing evened out and your heart settled."

Hope took Lightning's hand, held it until she looked back down at him. "I'm feeling better. It will take more than a little excitement to take me out."

"As evidenced." Her eyes trailed over Hope's bandages before Lightning pulled out of his hold. Hope bit back his disappointment. "I don't want to cause you more stress, but I can't agree with this." Lightning turned over Hope's wrist. The brand looked dimmer than normal, but no less intimidating.

"Can we not get into that right now? I… kind of have something else that I want to talk over with you."

"Shoot."

"I- I'm sorry that I didn't listen to you."

"We covered this already."

"No," Hope said, putting aside his earlier sloppy apologies, "we didn't. I'm sorry. I really am. And before you start in with your own apologies, I have to remind you of something. I have had a lot of time to think about this. More than I needed to, really. I am my own person. I make my own mistakes. That night was my mistake, not yours. You have to know that it wasn't your fault."

"I left you alone. How can you say that I'm not responsible? It's my job-"

"I am not your responsibility," Hope said, raising his voice enough to cut across Lightning. "You… are my friend, Lightning. Not my keeper. You care about my well-being and I'm glad, but I left that night. I _chose_ to leave with no protection, without notifying anyone. It was _my_ fault. And mine alone."

Lightning sat herself back down, her hand pushing her bangs back from her forehead before her gaze cut back to him. "Why did you do it, Hope? You promised me that you would stay."

"I'm sorry. I left because... b-because I-"

"Because what? What was so damn important that you risked your life again?"

"I found a letter from my father."

Hope's wounds sung in the quiet. His cuts felt wider, torn open with a hand clawing inside. His bruises throbbed. He felt like he was sinking, further down into the ocean black, looking up at a light that he could never reach.

"I found it and read it. It was a letter that he... wrote to me in the event that... he died." Hope's speech was broken, shattering in his mouth. Hope found himself regretting everything in that moment, his whole life. "I felt compelled to see him... but- I'm sorry, Light! I remembered my promise to you and I-I made a _conscious decision_ to break it. I can't tell you how so-"

"I understand, Hope."

Her calm and even tone brought Hope's emerging tears to a halt. "How could you? I-"

"You missed your father and I know that grief makes people do," Lightning's hardened, reproachful expression was softened by a wry smile, "stupid things. I forgive you, but... know that I'm not leaving your side again."

"What?"

"As I'm sure you've heard, I was appointed as the director's - Cass' - personal guard in your absence."

Hope's cheeks ballooned as he tried to hide his smile. "That must have been a challenge for you. Cass can be an irritating friend to have. I can't imagine having him as a boss."

Hope flinched as Lightning flicked him in the forehead. "The kid can give Snow a run for his gil in the annoyance department." Hope held a hand to the spot, cherishing a sorely missed interaction. "I spoke with Amodar. He has given me a permanent position at your side. If you'll have me."

As much as Hope wanted to jump at the chance to have Lightning at his side more often, hesitation stilled his glee. He just told Lightning that she wasn't his keeper. This change would complicate their relationship even more. "Why do you want to protect me?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"Why do you feel like it's your job to protect me? You've made it clear that I'm not a child. I'm not weak. I have plenty of others set to protect me. So why?"

"Because I have to." Lightning looked away from him, crossing her arms as she stood and faced the wall. It was her childish, defensive pose. A 'sorry, but I'm not budging' stance. "I don't have anyone else. Serah was all I had. The one thing I had to do was protect her, fight for her, and now... All I have is you. I will not lose you. I... I care about you far too much." Lightning dropped her guard and looked back at him, her expression more vulnerable than it had been that day in the office. Hope was able to chip off more of her armor, peel away another calcified layer, and he wasn't sure what to do with the remnants in his hands. "I will protect you. I promise you that I'll protect you at any cost."

"You don't have to promise me that, Light. I don't want you to promise me that. Any cost would include your life and that's a cost that I could never live with."

Lightning smiled at him, a wide smile that only diminished with time. They both fell into a state of ease, Lightning taking up Zalera's spot on his bed as his hands found hers yet again. They stayed like that, in a companionable silence until exhaustion sat itself upon Hope's eyelids _. I don't want to sleep. I don't want this moment to end._

As Hope found himself drifting off, he felt fingers tickling through his bangs, the warmth of a hand on his cheek accompanied by a whisper.

"I won't let anything take you away again. I swear it."


	13. Resilience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope is discharged from the hospital, Lightning moves in, and a voice calls from the dark.

Hope peeled his last bandage back, revealing the scabbing claw mark from the behemoth king. Hovering his hand over the injury, Hope drew in a deep breath, focusing his energy, the entirety of his being, into his magic. A soft caress seeped into the gashes, sewing up the trauma until there was only neat, new skin.

_Having my brand back isn't all bad, I suppose._

"You really shouldn't do that." Lightning entered the room. Hope gave an uneasy smile. There was no point in hiding it now. Lightning stomped her way over to him, ripping off the bandage like a reprisal. Hope grit his teeth at the sting. "You need to be careful. You have to watch your strength." Lightning looked as steely as ever, but there was an edge of worry to her. It was unnecessary, but he wasn't about to tell her that.

"I'm fine, Light. Don't worry about it. It's only a few healing spells. And look," he said, gesturing to his arm and neck, "all gone. Everything's healed. No more injuries." Hope widened his smile, couldn't help showing the joy at his regained control.

"What if I had been someone else? What if someone saw you? I know you want to tell the world and be as transparent and honest as possible or whatever, but you shouldn't let them just find out. It will look like you were keeping it secret all the same."

"Was that how you felt?"

"This isn't about me. You need to keep your magic on the back burner for now."

"You could have just been happy for me. I don't need any more lectures."

Lightning looked him over, sighing as she brushed a hand over his forehead. It was a kind gesture, a symbol of care, of companionship, but Hope couldn't help the fluttery feeling it freed inside of his chest. At first glance, Lightning seemed like a rough, callous person. This proved that she was more than that hard exterior. Lightning was a clam, you just had to break open the shell to find the soft spots and the pearl hidden inside.

"Just don't overdo it," Lightning gave in, frowning down at him. "I still don't agree with you being discharged so soon."

Hope clicked his tongue. If Lightning had her way, he would be bedridden for a month, but Hope couldn't stay confined in this room. Hope was home, finally free, and he wanted to exercise that reality. Remind himself that this wasn't a fever dream. "I don't need to stay here, Light." He had to lean heavily on the furniture as he climbed to his feet. The last of his medication lingered, leaving him drowsy and woozy. Lightning, like her self-appointed namesake, was by his side to keep him steady. A hand on his shoulder, one beneath his arm. "I've healed all of my injuries so there's nothing that they can help me with anymore. Me laying here is only sucking up space, time and money. I will not burden these people any longer." Sliding out of her grasp, Hope retrieved his bag of clothes. He slid his civies out, felt the fabric on the pads of his fingers. He had been stuck in his uniform pants for so long, even his hospital gown had been a welcome change. "Are you sure about this personal guard thing?" Hope stayed with his back turned toward her, eyes finding a new interest in the belt in his hands.

"Why wouldn't I be? I thought you of all people would want-"

"I do," interrupted Hope, dropping his clothes and putting his hands on her shoulders. "I just... I don't want to burden you either." His eyes searched her, finding nothing. No tells, no vulnerabilities. After a few moments of silence, he retreated to the bathroom with his pile of clothing in hand.

It was a thought that Hope often struggled with. He found himself a burden on others. To his parents as a rock that bore weight on a once happy marriage. To their l'Cie group as the baby that needed saved. To Rygdea and Sazh as the kid that needed looked after. To the NORA gang who befriended him out of pity and as an obligation to Snow. To Nivien who went out of her way to be nice to him despite the flack that she got from others. To Lightning who wanted to keep him in an impenetrable, gilded cage.

Hope stepped out of the bathroom. Shedding his wounds and his gown was like shedding his identity as a victim. It felt empowering. He felt more like himself.

"Hope..." Lightning fought for words, disapproval in the little crease between her brows. "Hope, you're not a burden. Don't ever say something like that again."

"I want you safe. Being around me is the least safe place that you can be."

"One: telling someone who wants to protect you that being around you is dangerous will only make them want to stay near you more." He smiled sheepishly, hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Two: My job is unsafe. If I weren't guarding you, I'd be off fighting monster after monster, being the soldier that I am. Guarding you is going to be quite boring in comparison. Three: I want you safe, too. Don't think of this as a job for me. This is me being there for someone that I care deeply for."

Hope basked in those words, that fluttery feeling tickling his negative thoughts away. "Okay. I won't say another word about it."

They walked their way out of the room, and Hope caught a flash of a greaseball of a man that he wasn't ready to speak with. Hope maneuvered himself around Lightning, turning them around as he steered her with a hand around her waist. Lightning tensed in his hold, but didn't question him. She seemed to catch the urgency in his movements, following his lead.

"Hiding your girl from me, Director?"

Hope brought them to a stop. _Damn._ He turned them around, his arm retreating from Lightning. "No, just trying to save you from a fist-shaped dent in your face."

Alder Waynes. He was about as sleazy as his appearance suggested. He was a well-built man, dressed in a blue suit with a purple paisley tie. Gold rings flashed on his fingers as the fruits of the shady dealings of his private company. His rust colored hair was thinning, slicked back from his face with far too much mousse. His lascivious smirk made even Hope want to put on ten layers of clothing. It made Hope uncomfortable having Lightning in the same room as the man.

Waynes laughed, his tone low. "Is that a threat, my dear friend? Your words wound me."

"Oh no, not a threat. A warning." Hope glanced in Lightning's direction. Waynes had a penchant for flirting with anything with two legs and Hope knew that it was only a matter of time before he hit on Lightning. Which also meant that it was only a matter of time before he was seeing stars.

Waynes followed Hope's gaze toward the soldier beside him. "Who is this gorgeous vision?" He took hold of her hand which slid out of his grasp almost as quickly as he had taken it.

"Sergeant Lightning Farron," declared Lightning.

"Another soldier, Estheim? Someone has a GI Jane fetish."

Hope wanted to shove himself into his collar and hide in the bagginess of his clothing because that was an assumption that he couldn't handle. Hope coughed, ready to redirect the conversation from this unfortunate, _embarrassing_ turn.

"Seems so," Lightning said, resting her elbow on his shoulder as she leaned against him, "Hope has a thing for women who can kick his ass."

"Who can blame him?"

"Ah," Hildough said as he turned the corner, "there you are, Waynes. Slipped right out of my sight. Terribly sorry, Director. It is good to see you doing well. I imagine that you would like to continue on your way, so we will be going now." Hildough hinted toward Waynes, leaning a brow toward their exit.

"But we were having such a pleasant conversation." Waynes affected a pout, at least Hope thought that it was a pout. The man even managed to make a pout look seedy. "You can't tear me away from the woman of my dreams."

"We should be going," Hildough insisted, his briefcase like a barrier between Waynes and the two of them as he turned the man away. "You have a plane to cat-"

"Yes. Yes, of course." Waynes sighed. "It was great, as always, to see you, Director." They shook hands, Hope giving him a small, forced smile. "It was simply wondrous to make your acquaintance, Miss Farron." He held out his hand and Lightning looked down at it with revulsion.

She was ready to bark at the man, but Hope stepped in before she could strike. "It's _Sergeant_ Farron, and I'm sure it was."

Waynes raised a brow as he retracted his hand, soon following after Hildough.

"Well that was... What?"

"I don't need you to handle things for me." With a peeved frown, Lightning snatched Hope's hospital bag from his hands and continued toward the stairs.

Hope looked at her hold on his belongings. "I could say the same."

"Who was that guy?"

"He's the Hildough of Sanctum City. Alder Waynes is their representative, but he doesn't usually come out here… It's Hildough that ventures into their territory..."

* * *

Dornum drove Hope and Lightning to the Estheim residence. It was a short ride, quiet with no traffic incidents. Lightning would have called it peaceful, were it not for how stiff Hope was beside her. His muscles were tensed up, hands clenched on his knees, eyes unblinking as they stared out the window. She watched him tremble, his usually sharp focus dulled as his eyes grew pale. Hope wasn't in the car with her. His mind held him captive somewhere else, the past oppressing his spirit.

Lightning could still see Hope's injuries, phantom cuts and bruises and lacerations that now only existed in memory. Curiosity tugged at the threads of her mind. She wondered about what other injuries Hope had sustained. What had he gone through that she could not see? Torture was a vague concept. There were many variations and degrees of torture. Yeul was a hint, and just like with Yeul, Lightning could imagine the bumps of teeth beneath her skin, the feel of searing flesh, and she thought of Hope's face, twisted in pain the way Yeul's had been. Had Hope been like Yeul? Full of tears and blood and broken bones and helplessness?

Anger burned through Lightning, a flash fire that blew itself out as she calmed her thoughts. Hope didn't need her anger. He needed her comfort, her compassion. It wasn't her specialty, but she would try. She reached out a hand, scooting it cautiously across the seat until it settled upon Hope's. Hope jumped at the contact, his hand unclenching from his knee. There were little crescents in the fabric, his nails having dug in deep. Hope's eyes squeezed shut, and Lightning squeezed onto Hope's hand, trying to summon him back to reality, using touch to exorcise his demons.

"You're here, Hope. You're home."

Emotions warred over Hope's face until it settled with a smile. It was meant to appease Lightning, his smile lacking true Hope authenticity, but Lightning would take what she could get. His eyes met hers, his hand squeezing back. "Thank you, Light. For being here with me."

"Where else would I be?" Lightning asked.

A nostalgic melancholy veiled Hope's expression, and Lightning wasn't sure what to make of it. "Nowhere, I suppose."

"We're here, sir."

Their hands quickly fell back to their sides as the car parked. Lightning glanced outside, her eyes finding Zalera as she stood against a column, the purple bag at her feet. She was in a loose academy uniform, clearly unhappy as her fingers pecked at the fabric on her skin.

"I don't think I'll be able to get used to your clothing, Hope," Zalera said as Hope rounded the car to let Lightning out.

"Really?" Hope asked, holding out a hand which Lightning took as she scooted out. "I think you look lovely."

Zalera rolled her eyes, brushing her hair from her face and tugging at the collar. "Are you sure I can't mend my old clothes?"

"Afraid not, but I think I may have just the thing for you."

"Unless it's my old outfit-"

"Close. Let's get ourselves inside."

Lightning would never be able to get over the vastness of Hope's home. It was a mansion, outsizing the one in Palumpolum by a wide margin. She had yet to explore the interior on her first or second visits, but the outside said about as much as she needed to know. Hope was still a rich kid, leagues above her financial situation and status. Above all in their l'Cie band, for that matter.

"So, where am I staying?" Lightning asked. The door closed behind them, their trio shedding their shoes in the foyer.

"At… the… Academy Base?" Hope asked, voice getting pitchier with uncertainty.

"I'm your personal guard. That means that I'm always within range. I'll be living here with you."

Hope's brows pitched upwards. Lightning tried not to take offense at the stun.

"This should be interesting," Zalera said, smirking. Hope grumbled something at her that caused her to laugh.

"Does that mean that you've been staying at Cass' since your appointment?"

"Yeah. I had to stay at the punk's place. So what? Sleeping on his dirty socks is nothing compared to breaking up his and Alyssa's quarrels or being subjected to his dining preferences."

"Oh! Did you try his gummy pizza? I love that stuff."

Lightning did a double take, not finding a hint of sarcasm in Hope's expression. A dreaminess misted over Hope's face and she was horrified to find that he was serious. "You ate that toxic trash? Voluntarily?"

Hope shrugged, chuckling at her unfiltered look of disgust. "Nivien and I were as grossed out by it as you. But we tried it. Liked it. Maybe he hypnotized us or something, because for a concept so icky sounding, it turned out to be a culinary wonder."

_And we're talking about Nivien again…_ "More like a culinary disaster."

"Someone want to clue me in here?" Zalera asked. "What is a gummy pizza?"

"Don't even ask," Lightning muttered.

"How about a tour?" Hope suggested with a bounce in his step. His excitement lacked emotion, and Lightning realized that Hope was a terrible actor. "The first room on the right is the sitting room. That, uh, bloodstain is probably a lost cause by now." Hope rubbed the back of his head with an awkward smile.

"Bloodstain?" Zalera asked, then waved the question off. "I know. Another 'don't ask,' right?"

"There's a restroom beside it and a living room opposite."

"What's the difference between a sitting room and a living room?" Lightning asked, owl eyes blinking as she glanced in. "They're both rooms for sitting. Isn't that redundant?"

"I don't understand why you need so many rooms at all," Zalera said, her eyes out-owling Lightning's.

"Ah, um, a living room is larger, more for light recreational activities like playing board games and watching television. The sitting room is cozier, meant for warm chit chat in close quarters. Next is the kitchen."

Lightning poked her head in, dizzied by the sheer space of the room outlined by counters upon counters on the perimeter. There was a fridge that could store at least three bodies. There were not only two ovens built into the wall, but three. Lightning didn't know the names or purposes of half of the gadgets that were stored on the shelves built into the back wall. "Shame that I'm a terrible cook."

"I'll cook for you," Hope offered.

"Somehow I doubt that you'll have the time. Besides, I've lived this long on my own just fine."

"You had Serah, though…"

"True." Serah's absence still squeezed at Lightning's chest, but she ignored it. This was a good day. She had Hope back. She wasn't about to jinx her luck by being ungrateful.

"You can cook for me," Zalera said, unabashed as she slipped between them. "I mean, I can prepare a decent meal, but I doubt I could fit a chunk of behemoth meat in here." Zalera ducked down to look closer at the blender, tilting her head this way and that. "What does this do?" she asked as she pressed a button. The appliance whirred to life. Zalera whipped out her chakram, ready to strike the offending machinery down.

"No. Let's not attack that." Hope ran to unplug the blender, using a hand to carefully tip the chakram out of his direction. "Let's avoid any buttons for now."

Lightning found herself chuckling at the scene.

"In the back corner is my room. The sliding door beyond the stairs leads to the backyard and the garden."

"Garden?" Gardens weren't easy to tend. Lightning tried to help Serah keep one, only for them to have a brown, dusty patch of decaying greens in return for their efforts. She was amazed that Hope would have been able to maintain one in a house of workaholics. "This house come with a gardener, too?"

"No, we take care of it. Uh, well, I… I take care of it, now. Dornum said he and Alyssa worked in it while I was gone. I can't thank them enough for their care and dedication." Hope carried on as he led them up the winding staircase that seemed to float in the middle of the hall. The stairs were suspended by cables, and Zalera looked uneasy at the rickety steps. "My mother loved gardens. She missed having one after we moved to Palumpolum, so dad and I made this one in her honor. The house was designed with my mother's wishes in mind, actually. A mixture of nature, modern architecture, functional furniture, and antique nostalgia." Hope walked off of the stairs and into the next room, took a purposeful step where the floor creaked beneath his weight. "She wanted a house that spoke and told stories with creaks in the floorboards and rippling wallpaper that spoke of simple times. A house with a garden that grew vines up the walls and an honest hearth with a fire that crackled and popped loud enough to startle."

"You did an amazing job, Hope," Lightning said.

Hope brightened with the praise. "Mom was indecisive by nature, so we did a bit of everything." Hope tapped a foot down, eliciting the noise again. It seemed to ease him, producing a therapeutic sedative to his nerves. "As you may have guessed, this is the library."

Oak bookcases lined the walls, their height easily doubling over Lightning. They were stacked full of books, their spines tightly packed together. Lightning noticed a few volumes missing from sets. A few of them corresponded with the random books in her room at the Academy. One wall was a window that looked over the driveway, the sunset gilding the hills in gold.

"That's... a safety hazard," Lightning said.

"It's fortified. And it's a screen." Hope nodded toward the window as he said, "Four." The glass rippled and instead of the sunlit scene of Academia they were looking out on the frothing waves of a beach.

Not just any beach, either.

"Bodhum…" Lightning marveled at the sight. It was like she was standing at the edge of a dock, a little girl again as she waved her father's ship off and waited until it evaporated along the horizon.

"Yup. You can add sound. Of gulls, waves, what have you. Seven."

The screen changed again. Night atop a skyscraper, like they were standing above city lights, high, high up. Almost flying.

"It can even be a monitor to watch movies or project your screen. Thirteen."

The images rippled away, changing to a desktop format. Hope's personal computer, if the pictures on the home screen had anything to say about it. One of him and NORA raising plastic cups in cheers. One of Hope in graduation attire as his father stood proudly at his side. One of him and Nivien on a merry go round, Nivien leaning over between horses to kiss Hope on the cheek.

"Zero! Back to zero, please!" Hope asked in a flustered plea. The screen turned back into a window, the scene seeming plain and mundane now. Hope rubbed a hand down his face.

"On the right is the art room with… my office next door. On the left is the master bedroom, followed by the bathroom and… Lightning, you'll be taking the guest room, there."

There was a queen sized canopy bed with a deep red comforter and matching curtain. The plush carpeting was a cloud beneath her feet, cream in color to accompany the oak wood walls. There was an oak side table, dresser and vanity that matched the bed's frame.

"I hope it suits you. We can make some adjustments if it doesn't."

"It's nice." Lightning brought her hand over the comforter to feel its smoothness. She wasn't sure she belonged in room so luxurious, filled with rich color and comfort.

"And..." Hope exited the room, the women trailing behind. He led them up another set of stairs to two glass doors. "This used to be my favorite place to relax." He pushed open the doors to reveal a wooden deck that took up much of the third story. It looked out over the back yard and gave a breathtaking view of Pulse. Lightning initially questioned why Hope had decided to live on the outskirts of the city, but this view answered that question. Patio furniture circled around a stone fire pit. There was a covered grill against the house and a garden swing that sat off to the side.

Below was a massive, lush garden overflowing with colorful flowers, bushes and small trees. There were vegetable patches shaded by fruit trees. A stone-rimmed pond laid in the center of it all, birds sipping and bathing in the water.

"I didn't think that I'd be seeing much nature within your civilization." Zalera said as she looked over the scene in amazement. "Fara would be knocked off of her feet at this sight."

"Who's Fara?" Lightning asked.

"She was our tribe's elder, taught us children the ways of the world."

"I doubt she had a high opinion of us," Hope replied, seating himself in the garden swing, rocking himself along at a whisper's pace.

"'They're heathens,' Fara would say. 'They care not for our wise deities but only for their mini gods that feed, shelter and protect them. The folk in that sphere know nothing of the true struggles in life. They are happy on their tethers as long as they are provided with their machine-forged goods and newfangled gadgets. Reliance on the fal'Cie is all they will ever know. But not us. We provide for ourselves. We appreciate the world around us, its nature and its creatures, and most importantly the great beings who bestowed us with our freedom and our will to survive.'

"Fara was thought to be all knowing, especially to the youth of our tribe. Even to me, once upon a time." Zalera looked down at herself, sneering at the thought. "Cocoon was a common topic that she spoke of with contempt and hatred. She once said that your world held no wildlife, none at all. That you were deprived of the beauty of nature and wouldn't know a flower if you saw one. Therefore, your people held no appreciation for the outdoors and would have no place on Pulse."

"Once upon a time…" Hope repeated.

Lightning wondered about that, too. If those were the lessons that Zalera grew up on, how did she have the tolerance to stand at their sides now?

"Yeul rewrote that knowledge. She taught me that your people were so much more than Fara gave you credit for. So far, you have proven Yeul right. Fara was only a jaded storyteller."

"I'm glad to hear that." Hope stood up, hugging his arms around himself as the wind brushed a chill over the balcony. "Let's get inside so we can talk. We can get you that change of clothes, too."

* * *

Zalera stepped into the sitting room, back in what Hope assumed was her original garb – a green tank top, a green knee-length skirt, and matching green boots.

"Pretty impressive, huh?"

"I thought I was going to suffocate inside of that… thing."

"It's called a garment fabricator, the Z-07 Constructor series," Hope said, unable to contain the pride in his voice. He and Maqui spent much of his junior year upgrading its modifications. "Due to the last round of tweaking it was even able to give you the zirnitra hide that made your boots."

Zalera clicked her heels together, a smile touching her lips. "Not as satisfying as hunting and skinning your prey, but much more efficient."

"I'll stick with my synthetic uniform," Lightning said, turning back to Hope. "What is it that you wanted to talk about?"

Hope stiffened at the reminder, staring at Zalera as she sat across from him. He was reluctant to bring up the subject, having bumbled his way around it during every interaction with Zalera since his return. He didn't know how to ask, or if it was appropriate to do so. "How- How are you doing, Zalera?"

Zalera sat back into the couch and crossed her legs, dropping her bag in front of her, chakrams still tied onto its front straps. "I'm all right... as all right as can be expected. I'm adjusting. That Sazh character has been a help in leading me around. Thanks to you I don't have to spend weeks healing. But somehow I think your question has deeper meaning. What is it that you're really asking me?" Her gaze sharpened, digging in and rooting around in Hope's own.

Hope shifted, his feet tapping his nerves into the floor. "What about your accommodations at the Academy base? Will they suit your needs?"

"The room is fine."

Blunt, to the point, the way Hope couldn't manage. "Well... um, uh-" Hope stumbled over his words, looking to Lightning who only gave him the same confused, impatient stare that Zalera was shooting him. "S-Since Lightning is already staying here... I do have another free room if-"

"It's perfectly fine, Hope. I don't need much and I don't want to intrude." A smirk played across her lips as she glanced in Lightning's direction. "But you're still avoiding the real question, Hope. What aren't you saying?"

A screech broke the silence, and Hope jumped to the kettle's call. "Tea! Anyone else want tea? I know I could use some." Anything to avoid this trial of a conversation. Hope exhaled his tension as he prepared their drinks, focusing his attention on the task at hand. Hope grabbed a spoon from the silverware drawer, bumping the drawer shut with a hip.

_"Hope."_

Hope spun on his heel, eyes jittering from corner to corner of the kitchen. That wasn't Zalera's or Lightning's voice. It sounded like-"

_"Miss me yet, Hope?"_

_No._

_No, you're dead._

Hope saw Castea's body, the lifeless look in her eyes. Yet the fear turned Hope's stomach, made his pulse skyrocket as sweat slithered down the back of his neck. "It's the trauma, that's all. This is only the lasting effects of your captivity. You can get through this."

As his mind began to calm, his body followed suit. His heart no longer felt like it was trying to break through his ribs and his iron-tight grip on the spoon loosened. The spoon was now bent at a right angle, the metal at its center a bright red. _Did I… do that…?_ Hope breathed in and out as he turned his attention back to his original task.

"You okay in there?" Lightning called.

_Just freaking myself out with imaginary voices. Nothing to worry about._ _Nothing at all._ "Yeah, I'm coming." Quickly throwing the damaged utensil away and grabbing a new one, Hope snatched up the tray. He was just a few steps shy of exiting the room before that all too familiar voice spoke again.

_"You can't get rid of me that easily, darling."_

Hope could feel her nails scratching, clawing, tearing inside of him. His heart was inside of her hands, pulsing less and less with each squeeze. His leg was screaming in pain. The blade scraped left, right, left, right, left, right. It was being torn from him, the last tethers of flesh being ripped apart. He couldn't breathe. The blood. The black blood was gushing, choking him. The darkness. He couldn't see through the darkness.

"Hope."

A hand reached through the darkness. Dripping black. Claws.

Hope slapped it away. He had to run. He had to escape.

"Hope!"

Lightning's voice broke through. Hope came back to his kitchen, in his home, in Academia. Free from Castea's clutches. He was huddled on the floor, face to the ground. Hope raised his head slowly, afraid of reality, as if it might be torn from him, a wicked trick. "Lightning? Zalera?"

The two were crouched in front of him, Zalera holding Lightning's hands until Lightning jerked away from her. "I wasn't going to hurt him," Lightning hissed.

"Trust me. Touching him in that state will make it worse. Next time he may do more than slap you away."

"Trust you? You don't even know him."

"Lightning? I- What happened?" Lightning dropped her glare, looking to Hope as she held him by the shoulders. Her hold was firm, but gentle. There was care there, but Hope still had to tell himself that these hands were okay. They wouldn't hurt him.

"You dropped your tea tray and started screaming. We scrambled in here and found you like this."

"There was no one else here, right?" Hope asked, the panic-filled words practically a screech from his throat. Confusion bent Lightning's brow, her head swiveling to survey the room. Hope grabbed onto the arms holding him and shook her. "Right?!"

"It's just us, Hope," Zalera said, turning the tray over as she picked up the broken shells of their tea cups. "Only us."

"Right," Lightning agreed.

Hope sat back on his haunches, deflating. Lightning reached out, and Hope couldn't keep himself from flinching.

She retracted her hand, her expression flattening as she turned to help Zalera. "There should be a broom around here somewhere."

Hope met Zalera's eyes as Lightning perused the nearby utility closet. He found understanding in the depths of her irises. She gave him a nod, their signal that they used when they couldn't speak through the pain, couldn't move due to their binds. It was to show that they were okay, that they would get through this trial, like any other. Hope nodded back.

"I think it's safe to say that chatting over tea is out." Zalera pulled the trash can closer, removed the lid. "What is it that you've been too squeamish to say?"

Hope closed his eyes, remembered their nods. They would get through this trial, too.

"Would you like to see Yeul?"

* * *

"Thank you, Dr. Torkin," Hope said. He directed Zalera inside with a hand at her back.

"I'm happy to be of assistance." The man scampered over to a wall of metal drawers. His thumb pressed against the metal and something clicked. Torkin took hold of the handle, rolling the drawer out to reveal a cloth-covered body.

Zalera could feel her heart seize inside of her chest. That was a Yeul-sized body, her coral hair spilling out. Zalera could feel nothing of her presence, no life energy, though her soul searched. Zalera knew that Yeul had died, but to see her with her own eyes…

"We've preserved her in the Cryo-lab," Torkin said, adjusting his glasses, "until family could be reached or a decision on method of disposal was made."

"Could you give us a few minutes?" Hope asked.

"Right. I'll be right outside."

Zalera walked her way over to the open drawer, staring down at the covered body. Her hand settled on Yeul's forehead, keeping the fabric as a barrier, a wall between life and death. She could feel the icy-coldness of Yeul's skin. Zalera's fingers slid down, over round eyes, her pert nose, the bow of her lips.

Zalera could almost feel a smile. That serene smile that Yeul held when they met. When they grieved over her guardian's body. When she was facing Sebastian's knife for the final time.

It was Yeul that taught Zalera how to smile again. Yeul who taught her to smile through even the worst of life's challenges.

In a mechanical motion, she brought her hand up to the top of the white fabric, letting it hover before dropping it back to her side. Several times she did this until she couldn't summon up the strength to raise it again.

_This is supposed to be your good-bye. You can't chicken out on this. You have to let her go, Zalera._

Zalera felt the scratchy gasp leave her throat as she ripped the sheet free. _Yeul…_ There was no denying the sight before her - the blue of Yeul's skin, the wounds of another's malice marring her body, the death that radiated from her. Zalera's tears fell, flooding down her face, because Yeul was smiling, even in death.

Her last, final smile.

"I'm sorry," Zalera wailed as she slumped over her body. "I'm sorry. I failed you. I can't believe-you-you-y-you c-can't really be-" Another cry erupted from her as she brought Yeul to her chest, clutching onto her icy, stiff body.

_You were always smiling. For him. For me._

_You gave us your strength when we had nothing left._

Zalera sniffed and wiped her eyes before wiping her tears from Yeul's face. She cupped her cheek in the curve of her palm the way Yeul used to do to every flower in her path. Like each and every one was precious. "I hope that you are happy in your next life and I hope that we meet again. I can never apologize enough, but I will continue to try to make up for my crimes." As she placed the cloth back over Yeul, she felt her throat threatening to close and tears brimming her eyelids once again. Drawing in a shaky breath, she stood, arms wrapping around her middle as if Yeul was holding her back.

Hope went to close the drawer, but stopped at the knock on the door behind him. The three turned to see a blonde enter, her smile wide and her eyes excited. She zoomed past Lightning and over to Hope where she suffocated him in a hug.

Zalera found herself laughing into a hand, sniffing back the last of her tears as she glanced at the perturbed Lightning. "Friend of yours?" Zalera asked with a wink.

'Don't,' Hope mouthed.

Zalera gave him a cheeky smile in return.

"It's soooooo _good_ to have you back, Director Estheim. Yes, I could say that all day, every day. Director. Estheim. You have no idea how much I missed you and your uniform and your sincerity and your dutiful work ethic. Gah! I could kiss your shoes."

"That's… not necessary."

"Yeah, your strangling grip is enough," Lightning deadpanned.

Alyssa pouted as she was pushed back, but her smile returned with little provocation. "You asked for me?"

"Yes. Um... Z, are you-"

"I'm... all right."

"You know that my offer still stands. About staying with us."

She smiled graciously. The man was too kind for his own good. If he wasn't careful, his benevolence would be his downfall. "I'm fine. See? Now stop looking at me like that." She shoved at his chest, causing him to stumble from his spot.

"Alyssa, if you could take Zalera back to base and make sure she's settled in-"

"No problem, Director _Estheim_. I'd be more than happy to." Alyssa nodded to Zalera who nodded slowly in return, confused by her exuberance.

Torkin reentered, snapping the fabric back into place over Yeul. The drawer rolled to a close, slamming shut with a finality that Zalera felt in her bones. The group filed out of the room. The door made a little chirping sound as it was locked with Torkin's thumb. Zalera told herself not to look back.

The door was already shut on their final goodbye.

Each step Zalera took away from the morgue chipped at her heart. It was crumbling in her chest, disintegrating in Yeul's hands.

She could still feel Yeul's small hand as it brushed through her hair. Yeul's smile as she looked up at her.

"I miss you," Zalera whispered, turning back as she slid her hand against the door's glass. "Know that I will always love you." Zalera started to shake, her fingers tapping against the glass, her legs buckling beneath her. Arms helped her to the floor. Hope held her through the shaking and the tears. "I can't leave her. I can't."

Pulling her closer towards him, Hope rested his chin atop her head and rubbed circles into her back. Her cries turned to sobs, the shaking into quakes. "Z, it's okay. Yeul's here and she's at peace now. Please, it's okay. Soon enough we can put her body to rest however you wish. Just... please calm down."

Zalera imagined the sending - the ritual that Yeul's guardian was to perform in the event of her death. Zalera hadn't participated in one, only heard of its process. Shipping Yeul off into the water to 'be reborn in the hands of the goddess' was not what she wanted.

_However I wish…_

Zalera was Yeul's guardian now. The terms of this Yeul's final resting place laid in her hands.

"I'm sorry." Her eyes felt swollen, cheeks raw. It was strange feeling those sensations so vividly when they were usually drowned out by the agony of her wounds or the ache of hunger and exhaustion.

"Don't apologize." Hope gave her a small, comforting smile and stood, holding out a hand to pull her up. "Don't ever apologize for feeling your feelings."

* * *

Lightning stared at the fabric that stretched above her bed. They got back to Hope's house two hours prior and shuffled off to bed. After all of the emotional crap that had occurred throughout the day, the soldier had been excited by the prospect of getting some rest. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she remained wide awake. A restlessness skulked around inside of her, one she had only become acquainted with during Hope's time away. Days and nights she spent at his bedside as he'd recuperated in the hospital. To so suddenly be separated like this, not just by rooms, but by floors. Her senses stretched across the house, hairs raising at every creak and groan. She could only think on the distance, the ground she would have to cover should Hope be in danger.

Would she be too late again?

Lightning shoved the covers off, standing in the cool evening chill in her tank top and sleep shorts. "All I can say is thank Etro that I'm not still staying in my apartment. That would have made this even more ridiculous." Lightning kept her steps quiet, letting the carpet absorb the impact as she stepped around the creaks in the floors that she had memorized earlier in the day. Her gaze trekked over each window, counting the heads of each guard.

It should have been reassuring, the perimeter soaked with watchful eyes and prepared fighters. It did nothing to alleviate the pressure resting on her shoulders, the duty that she pinned to the front of her uniform like a title.

A sudden cry rang out. Lightning hit the bottom stair and sprang toward Hope's room. She left her gunblade at her bed's side, but she couldn't risk taking the time to retrieve it. Hope was crying out, alone, in trouble. None of the useless guards outside heard him, making no move to aid his call.

Lightning burst through the door. But there was no one there. No enemy to fight.

Hope thrashed in his bed, rolling from side to side. His arms and legs stayed still, as if pinned there. Lightning could imagine the binds, her mind constructing their make from the marks that they left behind. Even in sleep, Hope was still trapped.

"Please! Please, do _on't_ …!" His words were warped with fear, ending in strangled yelps.

Lightning bit down on the inside of her cheek. Her teeth took a chunk, blood leaking in her mouth and it was like she could _taste_ his fear.

"Hope. Hope, wake up. You aren't in that- that place anymore. Wake-"

Lightning stopped herself, her hand stilled over his.

_"Trust me. Touching him in that state will make it worse."_

Lightning growled low in her throat. She wasn't going to let an outsider dictate her actions. Zalera was a respectable and capable woman, one to rely on, Lightning could tell. But this was Hope. Lightning knew what was best for Hope. More than a stranger.

Lightning struggled to bring Hope back to her. He was so scared, so lost, and Lightning had never seen him like that before. Not during the purge, or when he lost his mother, or as they faced Orphan. She grabbed onto his bare shoulders and tried to shake him awake. Hope's struggles worsened, his skin growing clammy, the covers soaked with sweat. Taking his face into her hands, she called out to him again, receiving nothing but more pained shouts. His hands were gripping the sheets as if they were a lifeline.

"…Light!"

Lightning froze when she heard her name tumble from his lips. He kept calling out for her. His voice reached for her from the depths of his despair. "Light! _Light_!"

_Did you scream for me then, too? Did you call for me? Did you wait for me, wondering why I never came?_

The thought left Lightning immobile. Her body, her one weapon that she trained to never fail her, was rendered worthless. It was like an icicle was sinking into her chest, freezing her through to her gut.

_Why can't I help you? I'm here now. I should be able to help you!_

"Dammit, Hope. _Wake up_!" Lightning climbed onto the bed. Her knees pressed down onto his hips. She put her hand on his exposed torso, holding him in place. "Please come back to me, Hope."

Hope sprang up from the bed, fist flying free. Lightning's gaze locked onto its trajectory, jerking her head out of the way as she caught his fist.

_"Next time he may do more than slap you away."_

Lightning didn't want to admit it, but maybe there were some things that she didn't know about Hope.

Lightning held Hope's fist in her hand, the impact of his punch rippling down her arm. Hope's dazed expression morphed, his eyes spaceship sized as he looked from his fist to her hand, to the angle of her head.

"D-Did I just…?" Hope pulled his hand away from her, held his arm to his chest. "I'm sorry. I would never. You have to know that I would never consciously hit you." Hope hid his eyes in the silver shag of his hair, curling his body to the side.

Lightning kept him from leaving, her hand still pressed to his chest. His heartbeat slowed gradually, the pulses seeping into her hand and calming her own. "Are you okay?" Hope reached for his neck cautiously, as if he weren't sure what he would find. Lightning's gaze zeroed in on the three ghost-pale fingers that climbed up Hope's throat. The nails were paper-thin stubs.

Lightning felt sharp lumps beneath her skin.

Maybe those were just goosebumps.

"Yeah. Yeah," Hope breathed out, though she wasn't inclined to believe him. Taking her hand from his chest and into his own, he squeezed it, giving her that reassuring, warm gesture that had become the norm between them. His face flushed as he looked down his body, eyeing how Lightning was straddling his waist.

"Sorry. For pinning you like this." Lightning shifted her weight off of his hips. It was only then that Lightning took note of their position, their state of undress, and the chest of a full grown man before her. "I wasn't sure how to wake you. I didn't want you to hurt yourself." Lightning sat at his side. She kept as close as possible, skin to skin contact linking them through their handhold and her bare leg as it brushed against his side.

"I'm sor-"

"No need."

"But I almost-"

"Don't think so highly of yourself, Estheim. Do you really think that you could lay a hit on me?"

Hope chuckled as he sat forward, tugging his sheets farther up his body as if self-conscious. "I suppose not."

Hope's brand glowed brightly in the room. Lightning traced its shape, felt its power zing through a fingertip. _Whatever this brand is, it's not like ours. I couldn't sense energy from our brands before._ "Are you sure about this? Are you sure that you don't have some... kind of focus with this? You didn't have any sort of vision?"

"No, I didn't have a vision. I'd know if I did. I still remember our one of Ragnarok clear as day. I can only imagine that this is different than when a brand is given. If we build assumptions on top of that theory, then it could explain the blue color. This may be the brand of a freed l'Cie, one that is able to take charge of their own destiny.

It was hard to believe that this mark was kin to their eyesore tattoos. It was gorgeous in color, shaped in swirls rather than harsh lines and arrows. Lightning stayed skeptical of its nature. A person didn't gain power for nothing. There were always strings attached, and she was tired of her family's future being controlled by an invisible hand.

"We should try to salvage what's left of the night and sleep." Lightning found herself yawning, and Hope returned the action. Hope nodded, his smile small, teetering on the edge of worry. "Here. Lay down. I'll stay here, make sure you don't toss yourself off of the bed in your sleep."

"That's all right. I'll be fine. Promise."

Lightning pointed a finger into his forehead, used it to press him back down into the bed as she laid on her side, facing him. "Sleep. Or this time it will be me hitting you."

"I- I didn't hit you!" Hope insisted, aghast.

"Only because I moved. Who knew that you would grow into such a brute, Estheim?"

Hope pouted and sunk down beneath the covers, silver spikes sticking out like a cactus. "Takes one to know one."


	14. Emotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope receives an invitation, secrets create a new rift, and a kiss comes out of nowhere.

Hope was back to his old self in no time. Back in his uniform, back to early mornings and long nights at the Academy, back to splitting his time between paperwork, meetings, and tweaking projects in the shop. Hope was in the shop now, a sweaty mess with a pair of coveralls protecting his uniform. The heat led him to rolling his coveralls down to his hips, his tank top coated in dirt streaks and his hair held back with a bandana.

"I need another particle accelerator," Maqui said as he strolled over to Hope's workstation. He sat on Hope's unoccupied stool, idly spinning himself as he waited for Hope to finish welding something shut.

The flame of his torch died out and Hope lifted the mask of his helmet up to eye Maqui. "You'll have to submit another request then, Maq."

"Don't be like that. It will take a week if I go through the proper channels. I need to finish this. _Need_ to. Right now. Not next week. There has to be some advantage to being the director's best friend."

"Don't whine at me. You don't get _membership perks_ for being in my inner circle. You have to fill out the forms just like anybody else. I submit order applications, too."

"Goody two shoes," Maqui muttered.

Hope knocked his mask down before settling back in to work. "I heard that."

"You were supposed to."

Lightning watched it all. She was always watching. Watching and waiting and doing absolutely nothing. Lightning knew that protecting Hope was an important task, a task that she only trusted herself to handle correctly. But the l'Cie incident felt unfinished, the case wide open, and Lightning didn't like it.

_Those l'Cie are dead? Crushed during Hope's escape? I don't buy it. Life is never so convenient. What about the fal'Cie who gave them their focus to target Hope? If Hope is essential to that grand plan, then won't it round up more l'Cie to come after him?_

_Nothing is over. I'm sure of it._

As much as Lightning enjoyed seeing Hope fall back into the routine of his life, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were standing on some sort of precipice, simply waiting to tip over into the hands of a malevolent god.

Hope's cries were still stained into her ears, his wounds scarred into her corneas. She would _never_ forgive the people that hurt Hope. Lightning recognized Hope's terror, his fear, but she didn't quite understand it. It was a barrier between them, one that Hope fortified as he held the details of his torture close to his chest.

"Alright, Hope," Lightning said with a clap of her hands. "Time to wrap things up."

"Why don't you get a whistle?" Maqui suggested with a grin. "It's a more effective tool."

Hope yanked his helmet and bandana off, shaking out his hair. "For dogs."

"Exactly."

"And what _exactly_ does Lebreau use to summon you?"

"A training whip," Lightning said coolly.

Maqui's cheeks flared and he began tripping over comebacks until he left with a, "hmph!"

"Don't forget to submit that order request, Maq!" Hope called.

"Maqui the Mechromancer does not need order forms! I'll get the part myself!"

Hope laughed, shedding his coveralls and grimy tank as he slipped back into his uniform. "You know you aren't my assistant, right? Alyssa will be on my case about my schedule soon enough."

"It's her job," Lightning said, swiping up a towel and rubbing it through Hope's sweaty tresses, "and she can have it. I'm not here to keep you on schedule. I'm here to make sure that you don't work yourself to death."

"You aren't my mom, either," Hope replied moodily, batting at her hands as he took over the motions. He settled the towel around his shoulders before finishing buttoning up his coat.

Lightning watched, laser focused on Hope and his surroundings as she had been for the past week. Hope buttoned his shirts and coats from the bottom up. He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth as he did so. He tugged his sleeves loose, the left one and then the right. When lacing his boots, he still did the rabbit-hole technique that toddlers used when learning to tie shoes. It felt odd knowing all of these little quirks of Hope's. It was her job to notice the details, to be able to tell when something was wrong.

But…

She didn't know how Cass buttoned his clothes. She didn't marvel as concentration sharpened Cass' features. She didn't glance out of the corner of her eye as Cass slipped himself free of any of his clothing. She didn't count the drops of perspiration as they trekked across Cass' skin.

Lightning scrubbed the thoughts from her mind, staring at the door until Hope was finished.

The two made it into Hope's office two minutes before a knock sounded from the door.

"You don't have to answer that," Lightning said, her voice low enough to avoid being heard by his visitor. "You have a few minutes to rest. Take them."

Hope sighed, shooting her an aggravated look. "Come in."

"You're lucky that I'm not your mother."

Hope laughed as the door opened. Clacking heels turned to light thumps on the carpet. The guest was a young woman. She was fair-skinned with straight red hair that swished against her thighs. Her bangs were curled to the sides, framing her face. She was a short, petite-framed woman, her black, pinch-toe heels adding inches to her height. She wore a slim-fitting cocktail dress, a matching purse in the crook of her elbow, and a necklace with a diamond-studded 'K.' A berry stain lipstick drew the eye, the color a match to her violet irises.

_Hold on._

Lightning knew those eyes.

"Alyssa informed me that you were taking visitors now. I hope this won't be a bother. Your assistant did also inform me that you had quite the workload." Her eyes scanned over Hope's desk, and it was the pinch in her expression that helped Lightning's mind along.

_Cass._

_He said that he had a sister…_

This _is her? She looks so… proper._

"It is good to see you, Hope. How long has it been?"

Hope's smile was pleasant, if not tight with unease as he stood. "A year. Just about." He gestured for her to sit on the couch. She looked down at the thing, brushing a dainty, gloved fingertip over the fabric before turning her nose up at it. Lightning felt the insult. Hope didn't look surprised. "It's always a pleasure, Kori."

"Of course it is."

_What an entitled brat. I can see the similarities already._

Kori's eyes glanced in Lightning's direction. "Your assistant told me about your new guard, too. I had half-expected it to be that La Salle girl."

"Nivien has better things to-" Hope jammed his lips together, halting what was sure to be something thoughtlessly insulting. He held a hand to his forehead. "This is Sergeant Lightning Farron. Lightning, meet Koriandr Harleen, Cass' older sister. Her father is a benefactor and advisor of the Academy."

"What a pleasure to meet the soldier who guarded my brother. I must thank you for your service." Koriandr's words were too sweet like rotten fruit. Lightning could feel the girl's snobbish condescension, or maybe Lightning was simply biased against haughty rich types. "Short as it was. I imagine such a position must feel like a holiday, away from harsh and unsanitary conditions." She held out a dainty hand. Lightning shook it firmly. It was a short, three-second shake, and Koriandr pulled back to glance down at her hand like Lightning had transferred 'unsanitary' germs there.

"Some days I find that the conditions aren't so different. I have to deal with pretentious and arrogant onlookers in both positions," Lightning said, standing back against the wall, "for example."

"That… sounds most unpleasant."

"A hazard of the job. But it is good to meet you too, Miss Harleen. I hope your trek here wasn't too laborious. In those heels and all."

"Lovely, aren't they?" Koriandr looked down, smiling as she did a twirl. "A gift. You'd be surprised by the things that potential suitors will shower a girl with." Koriandr chuckled as she leaned into Hope's chest, arresting his tie. "And please, the name is Koriandr. My friends call me Kori. Isn't that right, Hope?" Kori tilted her head, fingering the wings of Hope's tie pin and Lightning could feel Hope's discomfort. She also didn't miss the longing in his eyes, a quick glimpse, there and gone like the headlights of a car as it passed. "You introduce me like a simple colleague despite our history. You wound me, Hope."

"Th-That was not my intention, Kori."

"History?" Lightning lilted it like a question, smirking at Hope. His face paled and Lightning was as intrigued and amused as she was irritated. "Wouldn't have pegged you for the womanizing type."

Hope blanched. "That isn't even remotely-"

Kori chuckled lightly behind a hand, projecting the innocent, delicate thing that Lightning suspected she wasn't. "Sadly, we are childhood friends, that's all. Though I won't say that Hope lacks the charm to unknowingly hook all of the women in his path." Kori's gaze swept over to Lightning, provocation in her stare. "Such a lack of self-awareness can be irresistible. To certain types."

Lightning didn't bite. She didn't like the way that Kori pawed at Hope, but this little girl wasn't worth the rise that she was trying to induce. Hope looked about as awkward and edgy in her hands as he did when Alyssa got carried away with her advances. In fact, he almost looked… pained by it. Lightning's eyes caught the slight tremble to Hope's body, the sweat dampening his collar. He affected a casual stance, leaning his body on a hand on his desk. Lightning could see now how much of a crutch that the desk had become. It was the only thing keeping him standing. While Kori prattled on, Hope's face was becoming more and more strained.

The fatigue was setting in. Hope was working on atrophied muscles with dehydration and a lack of proper nutrients still offsetting him. His healing sessions could only mend so much. He and Zalera stood like sticks ready to blow over in the wind.

"It's been a long morning," Lightning cut in. She walked over to Hope's side, leading him down into his desk chair. "Director Estheim was just about to take a brief respite when you came. Mind cutting to the chase? We have a schedule to keep. I'm sure a woman of your stature can understand. Wouldn't want to keep the suitors waiting."

Hope bit his lip, turning his head just enough to meet Lightning's eyes to whisper a, "thank you" in her direction.

Kori's face tightened around an aristocratic smile. "I… simply wanted to welcome you back and wish you a speedy recovery. How are you doing?"

"I'm doing well. Thank you."

"Marvelous. I was worried. Your captivity has been kept so hush hush that it makes for quite the tantalizing mystery."

Lightning kept her contempt from reaching her expression. Goading Lightning on with the faux-flirty intrigue was one thing, a thing that Lightning could brush off like dust on her lapel. Treating Hope's abduction like a daytime soap opera, something to be gossiped and theorized about for entertainment purposes, now that got under Lightning's skin.

"I also needed to deliver this." She snapped open her purse, drawing out a golden envelope between two fingers that she then held out toward Hope. "I was hoping for a quick, verbal response."

"Is this-?"

"An invite to my annual soiree? That it is."

"But I thought that I missed it during- while I was gone."

"I postponed it." She sat herself on the edge of Hope's desk, settling her hand on his knee. "It wouldn't be any fun without our director."

"I wouldn't dream of missing it, Kori. It was unnecessary of you to postpone, but I am touched by the thought and I feel honored to receive a personal, hand-delivered invitation," was what Hope said, but it wasn't what his body was voicing. Lightning read Hope's disinclination. It was as noticeable as Hope's weariness.

Kori flashed a wide grin. "One last thing, Hope. Do you have any idea what my brother has gotten himself into this time?"

"I have no idea. I had a hunch that he was getting into trouble again a handful of months back, but it was just a feeling. Regardless, I informed Nivien and she agreed to keep an eye on his movements. She would be the one to go to." Kori curled her lip at the mention of the name. "Or I can ask her and relay the message to you."

"Please do. If I find anything out I'll be sure to let you know, as well. I don't understand why he has these dangerous tendencies. It's even been getting worse with dad. It's like Cass wants him to... Never mind. Well, I should be going. That invitation is the same, as always. You may extend it to whomever you desire. That pilot you brought along last year was quite hilarious. So, please, it's always magnificent to meet more of the director's fine friends and associates." She walked towards the door, her hips swaying with her gait. "You can even invite some of your... soldier friends, if you wish."

"She's a peach," Lightning said once Kori's heels clicked their way out of earshot. "I take it that she and Nivien don't get along."

"Right." Hope tossed the envelope into the bottom drawer of his desk. "They tend to stand on opposite sides of the street when it comes to their views."

"She doesn't seem the type to stand for anything. How did you end up with a friend like that?"

"Kori isn't so bad." Lightning gave him a 'really now' look, because Lightning found that Kori outranked Cass on the irritation meter. "Okay. So she's a tad superficial and arrogant. She's a rich kid."

"Is that the reason why she treats men the way she does? Making them compete for her interest with presents. Putting her hands on them as she pleases."

Color rose to Hope's cheeks, but his lips curled with amusement. "Is that better or worse than the way that you treat men?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You either treat them like a punching bag or ignore them because they aren't worth your time."

"I hardly see a problem with that." Lightning shrugged. "I treat everyone that way. Man or woman."

"True enough." Hope's smile fell, his eyes clamping shut as his hand crumpled a page in his hold. Lightning's defensive stance loosened as she watched Hope be swallowed into one of his episodes.

Hope kept having these moments where pain would strike his mind and he would curl up, symptoms that he would later attribute to a headache. Sometimes he would stare off into space, fear tugging at his expression as he gripped onto anything within in reach, as if trying to cement himself down. What happened that night in the kitchen was due to something like this, Lightning suspected. They were probably flashbacks, some form of PTSD. Lightning could only guess because Hope kept waving the incidents away. Lightning didn't know how to handle these episodes or his frequent nightmares. She did what she could by giving him the time and space to come out of them on his own. When the episodes would outlast her patience, she would call out to him, stirring him with gentle prodding.

The episodes were happening more often, lasting for longer periods of time and Lightning was tired of feeling helpless to stop them. "Hope? Hope, come on. You have to-" _Stop this. Stop shutting me out._ "Is it a headache? Are you in pain? Should I call a medic in here?"

Hope responded with a groan. He curled himself over his desk, the paper he was holding fluttering to the floor as his fingers furled themselves into his hair. His hands tugged and pulled, his face scrunched and Lightning didn't know what to do. Lightning ran to his side, crouching down as she turned his chair to face her. "Hope! Hope, snap out of it!"

Hope wasn't listening. He wasn't registering anything she was saying. He was clenched up in pain. Lightning shook him, calling out to him. It did nothing. She watched his fingers curl, his nails biting into his scalp, fingers clawing into his head. Hope gasped at the pain, but kept digging. Lightning watched, unsure of what was happening, if Hope was hurting himself on purpose, or if he didn't have a handle on his actions through the pain.

The only thing that Lightning knew was that she had to stop him. Whether Hope was doing it intentionally or not, he was hurting himself, and Lightning said that she would protect him.

Even if she had to protect him from himself.

"Stop, Hope." Lightning grabbed onto Hope's arms, pulling at them, but they wouldn't budge. She didn't want to hurt him by applying too much force, but she was struggling against his iron grip. _Dammit, Hope. You're light as a leaf now. How are you still this strong?_ She slid her hands up over Hope's, attempting to pry off each finger. Still nothing. Lightning held onto Hope's hands, stabbing her own nails into his skin.

It seemed to do the trick. Hope let go of himself and Lightning immediately pulled Hope's arms to his sides. She stared into his face, his expression scrunching more as Hope hissed through his teeth. Lost - it was like Hope was lost and Lightning was scrambling to lead him back home. "Hope, you have to hang in there. I don't know what's going on and that… I'm scared. I'm scared for you." Lightning didn't know what she was saying. She just wanted this to stop. She wanted Hope to be back to normal. She wanted him to be happy again. "I can't do anything, can I? I want to help you, but you don't want it. Don't you trust me with your pain? With your secrets? I trust you, Hope. I trust you with mine."

_Do you?_

Lightning cupped Hope's cheeks, drawing her face closer as she spoke, "I need you here, Hope."

Hope hissed as he inhaled a large breath, pulling back from her as his eyes opened. Lightning sat back, tension releasing from her body as Hope settled. He held his hands up in front of his face, just staring at them there, his lip trembling. "I'm sorry," Hope said, swallowing before he dropped his hands to face her. "What… What were we talking about?"

Anger sparked inside of her. Lightning almost let it go, as she had been doing. She almost moved on, continued their conversation like the incident had been as disruptive as a minor bout of hiccups. She couldn't. These episodes were hurting Hope. Deeply and often. She couldn't stand by and let them get worse. Lightning stood, walking away as she seethed, feeling distraught and edgy. "You were hurting yourself…" Lightning looked back into Hope's face, then drew his eyes down to the reddened crescents on his hands. "I had to stop you."

Hope didn't say anything. He flexed his hands before picking up his gloves and tugging them on.

"You can't hide it away, Hope. You can't pretend that- that whatever this is isn't happening."

"I would love to do that. I know better than anyone that it's impossible."

"So why-" Lightning stopped, cooling herself down before she wound herself up into a yell. "Why don't you tell me what's going on with you? I can help."

"You are helping," Hope assured, his tone measured and calm and _dammit_ Hope wasn't supposed to be able to cloak his emotions. "You being here is helping. This… is nothing I can't-

"Nothing you can't handle? Maybe I can't handle it, Hope!"

_No. You aren't supposed to yell at him. You're supposed to be a bastion of safety for him. Don't let anger control you anymore._

She told herself that, but it was hard. Hope's denial and deflections only fanned the flames, made her burn all the way down to tiny, defenseless Claire. "You're in pain."

"You want me to talk about it?"

"Yes!" Lightning exhaled in exasperation, then reigned herself in with a calmer, "Yes."

"Talking about it will help? This will stop if I let it all out? Is that what you're saying?"

"…Yes."

"This isn't the death of our parents, Lightning. We can't trade our past grievances to lessen the burdens on our shoulders." Hope's hands tightened into fists, his leg bouncing until he looked at it. Stared. His eyes fixated and unchanging. "It's a wound that is too raw. Talking about it would be like shoving my fingers in and ripping the wound open, letting it bleed all over you. I don't- I can't go through it again. Please don't make me."

Lightning ducked her head, appalled at herself because what was she doing? Bullying Hope into recounting the worst moments of his life. Hoping that he would share his pain and yelling at him when he refused. He sounded so fragile, like the young boy that slept against a rock, calling out to his dead mother. "Okay. We'll figure some way around this. Just- I'm going to be here to help you out of these _things_ , okay? That's something I won't allow you to say no to."

"Fair enough. Can we get lunch? I'm starving."

Lightning laughed, plunging headfirst back into the mundane. "Best be getting something before Alyssa sends another alert. Can you… Can you stand?"

Hope answered with a roll of his eyes.

* * *

"I tried to get it out of him," Lightning started saying as the elevator door closed before them, "but Cass is about as stubborn as you are about secrets. Although much better in the art of deflection."

Hope smiled, trying to take it in jest, though it felt like Lightning was poking into his sores. "You want to know what Kori was talking about with her brother," Hope guessed, staring through the glass elevator doors instead of at the reflection staring back at him.

Time and nutrition and his own healing had given Hope a good portion of his strength back, but he could still feel the wear of months in the ark. His reflection made him look worse than he felt. Hope couldn't see himself as he was, only as he had been. He could feel that his body was as whole and functioning as before, but every time he looked into his reflection he faced a one-legged man with three less fingers, a missing ear and a mouth full of holes. Some irrational part of Hope wondered if Lightning could see it, if she could sense that he was even less of a man than he already was.

"Wait, you tried to get it out of him? When- How did you know that there was anything going on?"

"La Salle confronted him about it while I was guarding him."

"Cass knows then. It was supposed to be a covert sort of thing."

"She was upset. About him. And you."

Hope sensed a landmine, stepping carefully over it. "Cass has issues."

"Understatement," Lightning said with a crooked smile. The elevator dinged, a mellow-toned voice announcing their floor number as the doors opened. Lightning pushed herself off of the railing, began walking forward.

"I want you to be careful."

Lightning stopped, her arm shooting out to hold the doors open as Hope was still inside. "Me? He's a harmless brat who's all bark and no bite."

_"So you think I'm just a bitch with all bark and no bite, huh?"_

Hope repressed a shudder at the echo of Castea's words.

_"Did our dear Lightning strike a chord? It's so sweet how you can't keep me out of your head."_

"Hope?"

"It's not _his_ bite that I'm worried about."

"Meaning?"

"I know you're not a person to do what you're told," Hope smiled politely at a student that walked around Lightning to enter the elevator. Hope nodded a greeting at him, walking toward the exit with Lightning at his side. "But you need to stay away from him. He's dangerous. The people he associates with are dangerous. He likes to live on the edge, to throw himself into fire just for kicks. He doesn't care what happens to him. Death would be a welcome consequence to his actions, I think. Just be careful around him. Avoid him."

Lightning still looked unconvinced, but nodded all the same. "Nivien mentioned something about him investigating the Sanctum."

"I expected her to have tighter lips," Hope muttered. "We've caught him meeting with Sanctum associates and civilians a time or two. Our guess is that he is investigating their involvement in some hiccups we've had in one of our Cocoon projects."

"Cocoon projects?"

"Nope. Sorry, Light. That is the extent of my willingness to divulge state secrets."

Clicking her tongue, she hardly looked surprised or offended. As a soldier, Hope supposed that she was used to her level on the clearance list, as opposed to himself. "Guess I have to find myself a deeper throat."

"No. Please don't go looking into this any deeper than- You were joking. Ha. Okay. Yeah. Dumb. I'm… a little slower these days."

"You know that I can take care of myself, right?"

"Oh, I know. I know that very well."

"Hope!"

Hope looked up in time to see a flash of indigo before a small body slammed into his middle. Little arms reached around him, hugging Hope close.

"You're back!"

"Hey, Arden." Hope placed a hand down on his head, wondering how a hug from a child could manage to squeeze tears out. There was something about facing Arden's happiness, his innocence that made Hope feel even more vulnerable.

"I missed you, Hope. Nana said you were on a trip. Did you bring me a souvelir?"

"Sorry, no souvenirs. It was just an extended business trip. Boring adults doing boring adult things."

"S'okay. You're the bestest souvel- _souvenir_ I could ask for."

Hope laughed. It hid his choked up tears. "I've never been called that before."

"Where'd you run off to this time?" Jun peeked out from her window to catch sight of the incoming group. She dropped whatever was in her hands, staring at Hope in shock.

Arden pulled back from Hope and began bouncing up and down. "Hope's here, Nana." He looked over toward Lightning, his excitement causing him to bounce higher, "And he brought the pretty girl with him, too," until he fell forward. Hope reached for him, but Arden used the momentum to somersault back onto his feet. He smiled at Hope's worried face, his arms up as if saying 'ta-da.'

"You planned that, didn't you?" Another body crashed into Hope. Jun embraced Hope from the side, smelling of hot dogs and fried oil and home.

"Oh, dear, it's good to have ya back."

"I think Nana missed you bunches, too," Arden said with a giggle.

"It's good to see you too, Jun. I'm sorry it took me so long to visit."

"You can stop that right now." She wiped the tears from her eyes with the edge of her apron before straightening out the wrinkles in his jacket. "You never have to apologize for anything." Her hands pecked stray pieces of fuzz off of him, smoothed down his fly away hairs like a mom. It felt wrong to think of another woman like a mom, but Jun was the closest thing he had to one since the passing of his own. She took care of him and Cass and Nivien, taking the orphans under her wing and helping them as best she could.

"You know that I'm still going to."

"You look…" Jun's gaze travelled down his frame, eyes sad. Hope felt like hiding himself away, living in three uniforms to conceal the state of his body. There was still such an emptiness to him, like a puppet that had been chopped up and left behind. "Hey, Arden," Jun called over to the little boy who was swinging his arms as he recounted his school day to Lightning, "why don't you give Lightning a tour of the bus, okay?"

Arden's face lit up at the suggestion. He latched onto Lightning's hand, tugging her away. "You'll like it, Lightning. It's really cool."

"I don't know about that," Lightning said as she was being led away. Lighting looked lost, her gaze latching onto Hope with a stronger intensity than Arden's childish excitement. It begged him to solve her predicament, and Hope thought that it was cute how inexperienced Lightning was in this situation. The almighty Lightning was just as defenseless in a child's hands as anybody else.

"Go on, Light," Hope said, encouraging them with a nod. "Have some fun. I'll be just fine."

"Just stay out of trouble, Hope." Lightning shot him a glare before she was tugged out of sight.

"Don't burn yourself again, Arden," yelled Jun.

"I won't!"

Hope chuckled, finding himself relieved to be out of the shade of Lightning's watchful eye. It was like a second job for Hope, trying to keep himself strong in her presence. Hope wasn't the type to act like something he wasn't, but since his return it felt like he was playing a part. His uniform was his costume, his smile applied like make-up. He would wake up in the morning and step into the character of Director Hope Estheim. He would become that kind and generous hard worker that he was praised for. A man that didn't tire after walking five steps or cringe at the quick movements of others.

"All these years and you're still the same as ever."

"Huh?"

Jun clicked her tongue, a _tsk, tsk, tsk_ that constructed a shield of nostalgia around him, made him feel safe and coddled. "You have to learn to lean on the people around you, Hope. You have had to shoulder all of these burdens on your own for years, growing up at the drop of a hat just to survive. What you don't realize is that you have never truly been alone. We are here for you, Hope."

Hope felt blindsided by the turn in conversation, left to gape as he tried to cover himself back up. His costume was slipping, his make-up being washed away. "I wasn't- I'm not…"

Jun gripped the knot of Hope's tie, slipping it up tighter and straightening his collar. "You have a family. Let them help you."

"I- Thank you, Jun." Hope felt his shoulders relax, his feet seeming to settle into shoes that no longer felt five sizes too large. "I'll try."

"I'm here when you need me."

* * *

Lightning watched the child with wary eyes, suddenly feeling charged with the weight of a small, fragile life. Children were… difficult for Lightning. She didn't understand their boisterous and unpredictable nature. How they could so easily let their curiosity run them into dangerous territory. How they left themselves unguarded by putting too much faith in the world around them. _Except… that kind of sounds like Hope._ Sure, she didn't have to worry about him wandering into traffic or burning himself on a stove, but his innocent and naïve nature kept Lightning on her toes all the same.

Arden skipped along in front of her, swinging their handhold between them until he came around to the door of the food truck. "I thought your name was Lightning," Arden wondered aloud as he fumbled open the door, "but Hope calls you Light."

"Light's my nickname."

Arden's smile turned bashful. "That's a pretty name. Almost as pretty as you."

"Careful there. Laying it on a little thick, aren't you?"

"I would never! I know how to put the right amount of ingredients on the food. Nana said to never waste."

"Never mind," Lightning said, biting her amusement into the side of her cheek.

Arden did as he was told, giving Lightning as detailed of a tour as an eight year old could. He hadn't been kidding about knowing his measurements. He showed Lightning how to make three of the menu items, even having her assist in making hers and Hope's lunches.

"Not bad, kid."

"Not bad? That was mastery at work. But s'okay. Not everyone can recosize badassery when they see it."

"You have definitely picked up too many things from Cass."

"I saw him yesterday!" Arden jumped with his words, his excitement leaning him too close to the burner for Lightning's comfort. She picked Arden up and set him down as far away from the stove as she was able in the cramped confines of the truck. Arden carried on without missing a beat. "He let me wear his beanie."

"Lucky," Lightning said, though she worried over Arden's health. She was sure that the thing hadn't been washed within the last decade. "He treats that like a crown."

"Did you wear it, Light?"

"Never had the pleasure."

Arden hummed, then a look of concentration hardened his expression as he tried to wrap the paper around Hope's sandwich with a dexterity that his young fingers lacked. "You should always go by Light. It's much better than Lightning. Lightning is _so_ scary. You're not scary. You're a warm, guiding light that protects everyone."

_Maybe you've spent too much time around Hope, too._

"You don't even know me, kid."

He gave her his toothy smile as he held out her lunch. "I see it in your smile. And the way you look at people. Like Hope."

It was a touching sentiment, one that she was sure Serah would have cooed at if Arden were one of her students in her teacher's aide class, but Lightning couldn't believe a word of it.

If she was so wonderful, why couldn't she guide Hope back to his old self or protect him from the wounds that haunted him?

The question ate at her throughout lunch as she sat beside Hope, chatting idly about order forms and survey requests. Her thoughts spiraled around her inability to help Hope. She couldn't let him ignore his health - physical, mental or otherwise. She couldn't let him bottle up his pain.

She couldn't let him end up like her - hating parts of himself until he shut them away, cutting them out of himself like the unwanted branches of a tree.

Lightning didn't want Hope to hate or change himself.

He was perfect as he was.

Lightning felt a thumping in her chest, and she looked up at Hope, the man toiling away on a fresh pile of paperwork. Alyssa was standing behind him, leaning over his shoulder as they talked over a proposal. Her pen clicked away with her thoughts until she had one of those 'ah-ha' moments and scribbled something on the paper before them.

Hope looked so thin, so worn, eyes glazed and groggy. His mind still whirred relentlessly, working hard enough that Lightning thought she could hear the gears grind.

"I'll run this right to their department for you," Alyssa said, snapping the paper into her handy clipboard. "They'll be beyond pleased by the quick turn around."

Lightning waited until the door shut behind Alyssa before walking over to Hope and stealing the pages from his hands. "We need to talk."

"Do… we have to?"

"Yes."

"Because the way you said that made it sound ominous."

"... Let's chat?"

"Better, but less authentic. I doubt you would ever come up to me and say something like that."

"Can I… talk to you?" Lightning asked, grinding her words between her teeth.

"Sure. All you had to do was ask." Hope smiled cheekily and Lightning grabbed onto Hope's cheek, pulling him over to the couch. "Ow, ow, ow! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Sit."

"Yes, ma'am."

Lightning settled beside him and ran a hand down her face before meeting his eyes. "I can't let it lie. I thought I could. But I can't."

Hope's face didn't change. His lack of expression alarmed her, made her want to rewind time to where he was fourteen and transparent again. "Do you want to be transferred back to your old position?"

"No. God, no. Is that- Would you really rather have a different guard than talk this through with me?"

"Honestly?" Hope ran his gloved hands over his thighs. Lightning wished that his hands were bare, that he would stop hiding and let her see the real and the raw. "Yes."

Lightning blinked and blinked and blinked and blinked. His answer stung. In a deep, penetrating way. "Well… that sucks, because I'm not going anywhere."

"So, what? You're going to force the information out of me?" Hope's voice hardened. He sat straighter, defensive. "You do realize what that sounds like, right?"

"Don't compare me to them, Hope. I'm trying to help you."

"Why are you so sure that I need help?! That this- Talking like this – Exposing my worst moments- That that will help me. You don't even know what's wrong with me!"

"Because you won't tell me!"

"Leave me alone!" Hope shouted, his face red and gaze piercing. He was a cornered animal ready to claw his way out.

Lightning stood up, walked her way over to Hope's desk. She tried to temper her own anger and the bubbling concern that was boiling over. It felt wrong to fight with Hope, like she was beating up an already wounded kitten. Yet this confrontation felt necessary. She picked up that one framed photo, staring at the Hope inside of it. "You're scarred, Hope."

"I healed everything up."

"The scars I'm talking about are inside of you. They need a different kind of medicine than your healing hands. You can't ignore them or they will destroy you." Lightning's finger traced the outline of Hope as she wondered how things would have been different had she been the one.

If she had been the first to wake.

If she had been targeted.

If she was the l'Cie burdened with the fate of the world.

Lightning realized then that she would trade places with Hope in a heartbeat.

She also realized that it didn't matter.

"Trust me. I know what I'm talking about." Lightning sat back down beside him, holding onto his balled hand. He refused to unfurl his fingers, but he didn't pull away. "When my mother died, Serah and I only had each other. I told myself that I was okay, that I could deal with her death for Serah. That I had to do it alone. I stayed strong and joined the Corps to provide for Serah. I forced myself through the motions of the ideal soldier, pushed myself through the grueling trials of boot camp, faced impossible drill sergeants and fellow soldiers that spat in my face and told me that my place was in the bedroom. I went through all of that and became what I set out to become. Lightning." The name came out with more disgust than she'd intended, her lips curling around the word like a curse. Lightning had been Claire's savior, but she had also led to her destruction. "Lightning saved me from crumbling in the wake of my mother's death and from cracking under the new pressures of caring for a child. She was born of my self-hatred and will to achieve what Claire couldn't. Lightning helped me... to a point."

Hope's fist loosened, his fingers uncurling. His anger dissipated as he looked at her, but there was still a defensive, stony hardness to him.

"Serah saw through a lot of it. She saw that I was hiding under the shell of this indestructible soldier. Day in and day out she would try to tell me to take a break... to take a breather. She tried to get me to talk, but I shut her out. I told myself that she couldn't understand, she didn't know what it was like. And I told myself that I didn't want her to. I didn't want her to know how hard it was. I didn't want her to know how broken I felt."

Hope's hand twitched in her hold, jerking with emotion that she could see shifting the muscles in his face. Lightning pinched the glove at the tip of Hope's finger, pulled it off slowly until it fell to the floor. Hope pulled away then, shoving his hand under his thigh.

"It's okay, Hope."

Hope bit his lip, squeezed his eyes shut as he shook his head, but ultimately he stretched his hand back out, his three unnaturally pale fingers and all. Lightning held it between her hands.

"I ended up not only hiding my feelings from Serah, but Amodar and everyone else, until I hid them from myself. I denied their existence. I decided that as Lightning I didn't need emotions. She was someone who lived with no vulnerabilities." Drawing in a shaky breath, Lightning pressed on, turning over Hope's hand, fingertips tracing over the swirls of his knuckles until Hope's breath caught. Lightning let go, looking to Hope in apology because the last thing she wanted was to hurt him. "It wasn't until my first mission that I realized what a fool I was. Just because you push your past away, it doesn't mean that it won't come back at you. Mine did. At the worst time.

"We weren't supposed to have to fight. It was just a routine perimeter check in the middle of the night. But... there was an ambush." Images assaulted her mind as she thought back to that day. The explosions. The bullets. The bodies. The eyes... "All I remember is seeing my fellow soldiers go down beside me. I remember his eyes... The eyes of a man that I didn't know, that I didn't bother to talk to and didn't even know the name of. His eyes stared at the sky, soulless. His body was a mangled mess, but… I couldn't tear my eyes away from his own.

"I stared at his eyes... not because... It was because I saw my mother. It was all I could see... my mother's dead eyes... Lost, blue eyes staring at the ceiling while Serah kneeled at her bedside and screamed for her to wake up."

"Lightning, I don't know what to say."

"I woke up three days later in the hospital with holes in my stomach and chest, a concussion, and a sobbing sister at my side. I didn't remember a thing after staring at that man's eyes. I still don't remember. All I know is that if I'd dealt with the pain of losing her, then I wouldn't have ended up in the hospital. I almost _died_ because I was forced to confront something that I chose to bury. I would have left Serah alone, in foster care… I went to therapy after that and talked about things with Serah when she insisted. It helps, Hope. I still carry the scars, but they don't stop me from living."

Hope sat forward. He held his face in his hands. Lightning took the moment to put herself back together, filing the painful memories away. "I don't know what you want me to do with this information, Light. I- Thank you for sharing. But."

"I don't want you to go through that. I don't want you to have to almost die in order to realize that you need help. Horrific things happened to you and I know that it's hard to face them, but you have to. It will make you better and safer and I'll feel less worthless and-"

Hope hugged her, effectively stopping her from spouting off more than she planned. "Stop, Light. You're not worthless. You're not. You mean more to me than you will ever know and," Lightning could hear his swallow, how hard it was for him to speak, "having you here means the world to me and no one could help me the way you do. You're irreplaceable." Pulling her away so he could look into her eyes, he showed her his sincerity in his expression, eyes glossy in a way that made them sparkle in the light.

"Then why do I feel like it's my fault that you can't tell me?"

"I can't... I know I have to talk about what happened. I'll talk to the specialist that Rygdea referred me to. I just... I can't tell you."

And there it was. It was about her. He wasn't keeping it secret because he couldn't deal with the pain, it was because he couldn't tell _her_. It was because he didn't trust her. Lightning abandoned him, made him believe that he couldn't rely on her.

It was her fault.

It was a devastating blow. She expected it, but the truth still shook her to her core.

Lightning slipped herself away from him. Hope held on, but she had to leave, turn away, hide. She wrenched herself out of his grip, clung to thoughts of Serah.

The only person that she couldn't disappoint any more than she already had.

"No, Light, please-" He stood and tried to touch her arm, but she jerked it away. "I didn't... I'm afraid, okay? I'm afraid of what you'll think of me and I'm afraid that... that you'll only blame yourself more... if you know the truth. I don't want you to tell me that you won't. I just... please... give me time to tell you. I just can't right now."

"Okay."

Walking towards her, he brushed his fingertips against hers and released a breath when she grabbed hold of his hand. "I'm sorry about your mom and what happened. I know it must have been hard. We all deal with pain in different ways and... Lightning was your coping mechanism."

"Is," Lightning said, keeping her head low, gaze shaded. Disappointment lingered in her breast, bloating with each moment that passed until her chest felt cramped.

"What?"

"Is, she _is_ my coping mechanism. All these years and she's still holding me together." She let out a hollow chuckle as she stepped away from him. "It was my past. I just wanted you to know what can happen if you bottle your pain and emotions up. As long as you're talking to someone... I can live with the wait." She put a hand on her hip as she smirked, letting go of the threads of their conversation as if it was a balloon that she could let float away.

_Liar. You know you still want to know. You know you won't be able to sit back and watch him crawl through his recovery._

_You're a liar._

A harsh knock sounded from the door causing Hope to jump. "Come in."

It was La Salle, frustration set in her shoulders, her expression the definition of disgruntled. "I don't mean to interrupt, Director, but I need to speak with you. It's about Mr. Leonald."

_Perfect_ , Lightning thought, shaking her head as she pinched the bridge of her nose. _Next it will be you that Hope decides to divulge his innermost secrets to. A perfect ending to a perfectly frustrating situation._

"What's with the formalities, Nivien?" Hope asked.

Lightning moved to the other side of the room, crossing her arms as she pierced her nails into her skin.

The corners of Nivien's lips twitched upwards as she ducked her head. "Sorry, Hope... but this is important."

"I was hoping you'd have found something out. Kori was asking about Cass' recent activities."

"Well..." Nivien glanced in Lightning's direction and gave her a wary, impatient look.

_Is this your way of asking for a moment alone? Too bad._

_Maker, when did I get so catty?_

_When Hope told you to your face that he no longer trusts you._

Lightning could tell what the lieutenant wanted, and though she was loathe to leave the two alone, she did have something she wanted to do. She had one last person she could try to talk to. "I'll leave you two to talk."

* * *

"I have to say," Zalera said as she opened her door, "I'm surprised it took you so long to come to me. Good for you."

"Tch, are you going to let me inside, or what?" Lightning hated being there. She didn't want to go to an outsider for help with Hope, but the woman was her last shot. She needed information. She needed it now.

Zalera looked Lightning over, stretching the seconds and Lightning wondered if the woman was toying with her. It was working, fertilizing Lightning's impatience and discomfort. Finally Zalera led Lightning in with a shrug of her mouth. "I suppose another strong and dedicated guardian has taken your place for now?"

_Will everyone shove it with the guardian crap?_

"Yeah. Someone who… who can be trusted."

"Good. Hope is safe and has no way of knowing about your clandestine mission to betray his trust."

"Excuse you?"

"You're here about the Ark, yes?" Zalera's eyes challenged Lightning. She held herself much like Lightning did, guarded, shoulders square and arms crossed.

Lightning almost left, her body jerking in the door's direction. Desperation kept her rooted. "I need answers."

Zalera's gaze deepened, and Lightning could read something like disappointment. "I'm afraid that I can't help you."

"You haven't heard-"

"I can't blame you for your concern. He's… having a rough time. We both are. That scene in the kitchen was only the beginning, I'm sure." Zalera looked uncomfortable for a moment, her stare softening as it drifted toward her chakrams. One by the door, the other on a couch cushion. Lightning wondered if Zalera was having the same episodes, if she screamed and tossed herself around in her sleep as she tried to escape demons that were no longer there. "He doesn't want to talk about it. You can't accept that. So you've come to me to stick your nose where it doesn't belong."

"Wait just a goddamn minute."

"Am I wrong?"

She wasn't, and that just infuriated Lightning more. "I need to know. I need to know what happened. I want… I want to help."

Zalera's lips thinned as she looked down her nose at Lightning. "You don't have a right to know what happened to him. You think you do, but you don't. If Hope wants you to know, then he will tell you. Going behind his back like this… It makes me question your bond with him. Not to mention your character."

Lightning hung her head, shame a weight on her neck. Zalera was right. She was so unnervingly right that Lightning couldn't find a reason to defend herself with. But Lightning already knew that. She knew how despicable she was being.

She didn't care.

"You don't want to hear this from me. You want Hope to tell you. This isn't about you wanting to help Hope. It's not about aiding his healing. This is about you. It's about you being left out of a part of Hope's life. You can't stand Hope keeping a part of himself from you. You see it as him lacking faith in you. That he sees you as less of a protector. It's a selfish thing you're doing coming here."

"I know."

"And yet, I can't condemn you for it. I'm no better." Zalera blew out a sigh, one from deep within, like she had been holding herself on that one breath alone. "I would be doing the same thing if I were in your shoes."

"Wait… what?"

"It's a terrifying, maddening thing, isn't it? Caring so deeply for a person that you do things you don't understand. You do things that are against your nature, things you would never do for someone else. Like you're compelled to make a fool of yourself just to prove how worthy you are of those feelings."

_I wouldn't be standing here for anyone else._

_Only you, Hope._

"I'm losing my mind," Lightning said, breathing through Zalera's accusations. "Constantly worrying. Imagining. I want to understand. You're my last hope. Amodar wouldn't tell me. He gave me a pat on the head and sent me on my way. Rygdea… he _couldn't_ tell me. He got angry. He was so upset by my inquiries that he slammed the door in my face. If Rygdea of all people couldn't talk about it, then…"

"I can't tell you about Hope. But I can tell you about me and Yeul. Fair enough? You need answers and I could use an ear. Everything feels like it's crawling out of my skin." Zalera shivered, sighing with her entire body. She sank into the couch, stared at the ceiling. "Sit."

"I'm fine."

"Sit," Zalera commanded. "You're asking something of me... so you will sit."

Lightning clenched her jaw, but did as she was told. "Crawling out of your skin? You've had the same problems?"

"You don't go through an experience like that without losing pieces of yourself in the process. Even after you survive… it takes time for the body and the mind to forget. I feel like I'm constantly in fight mode. I can't let my guard down for a second or I'll regret it."

"I'll listen," Lightning said. "Whatever you have to say, I'll listen. Openly and without judgement."

"That would be sweet if you didn't have a selfish stake in this."

Lightning folded her hands, clenching her steepled fingers until they hurt. "I never properly thanked you for helping Hope. I don't know if he could have survived by himself. If you want an ear, for anything, you can have mine. It's the least I can do."

"Now that…" Zalera smiled to herself, resting her head on a hand as she crossed her legs, "I didn't expect."

"Fair warning. I'm terrible at comfort. So I can give you an ear, just don't expect a shoulder to cry on."

"Hah, I wouldn't worry about that. Let's see. I… As you may have been told, those l'Cie that took us weren't after me. They only took me to make it easier to break Yeul. When they came, our tribe was resting, waiting on the migration. We were sitting around the campground, eating and laughing like fools, completely unaware of the impending attack. Our number was nothing to boast of. We had no imposing troops to rally. What we lacked in bodies, we made up for with strength, experience. Yet not one of us noticed..." Zalera shook her head, slowly, side to side, and Lightning recognized the regret. Lightning knew the shame that darkened Zalera's features. It was the same shame that she felt for not sensing her own attackers that night, for not figuring their plot out sooner. "We were fierce and strong, but we never stood a chance against their skillful magic. Within minutes our numbers dwindled. I wanted to stay and fight on, but... I had to protect Yeul. She was my priority. I led her away and ran. As we retreated, we could still hear their cries. The guilt ate at me until I could stand it no longer. I hid Yeul and made her promise me to stay. Then I ran back. I wanted to see if there was anyone else that I could save. Even if it was just one person. But they were dead.

"When I reached them, I remained out of sight, camouflaged in the greenery, but I could see everything. My tribe was dead, bodies strewn in the dirt. Only seven were left kneeling in the dead's blood in front of Barsilisk. He was walking before them, watching them, interrogating them about Yeul's whereabouts. He offered them freedom if they gave her up." Zalera's face scrunched up until a proud smile broke through. "Even if they knew where she was, they would never tell. We put her life above our own. Always. Therefore I knew their fate before it happened. I ran back to Yeul as I heard the survivors' final cries and Barsilisk command his men to fan out. I bolted toward her, praying she was still safe. I found her huddled in a ball right where I'd left her. She kept asking me question after question about our tribe, but I told her to stay quiet. As I went to lead her away, I saw the familiar flash in her eyes and she stilled in my grasp. A vision. I cursed Etro for her timing. Yeul just _had_ to receive a vision then. We could have escaped were it not for that. I couldn't move Yeul, not in that state. The mist vanished from her eyes as she whispered to me, 'They're going to catch us.'

"Before I could react or think to reply, I was struck on the back of the head and was out like a light."

* * *

_Zalera awoke to Yeul's soft whimpers. The first thing she became aware of was the tight, rough cuffs that bound her to a stone slab beneath her. She immediately struggled, pulling herself against her binds hard enough that she dislocated her shoulder. She kept pulling, even as the leather ripped into her skin, circling bloody tracks in her wrists._

_"Stop, Zalera! It won't help."_

_Jerking her head in Yeul's direction, her fear intensified. Yeul was tied up too, a fresh bruise clinging to her cheek._ How dare they touch you. _Zalera continued her struggle, enraged as she pulled and pulled, but she kept her voice soft, assuring. "Don't worry. I'll get us out of here, Yeul. Just let me get. this. off."_

_"Okay," Yeul whispered with a small smile._

_Thumps from boots alerted Zalera to the stairs. A man descended, the one that hunted them down and slaughtered their tribe. His head was bowed, expression detached, but not disinterested. "How sweet," he said, looking over their immobile bodies. "It's a shame that my wife couldn't be here. She always took more pleasure in these things than me. I tire of these jobs."_

_The brand on his neck caught Zalera's eye, and she knew that this was a bound man, a l'Cie chained to a focus. "What do you want from us?"_

_Folding his hands behind his back, he drew closer. "From you, nothing. But from her... she is everything that we want." He closed in on Yeul until he was standing above the trembling girl whose eyes did not waver from Zalera._

_"You stay away from her, you sick bastard!" Zalera snarled, thrashing against her binds. "I'll-" Zalera's threats seized with her breath. It was like the air was being sucked out of her, a vacuum in her throat. Air spiraled atop Barsilisk's hand, a whirlwind growing until Zalera's vision grew spotted._

_"Stop! Stop!" Yeul cried. Zalera could hear Yeul's sobs, her tears making her words soggy. "Please, stop!"_

_Barsilisk obliged and released Zalera from his magic. Zalera coughed, wheezing in air despite the burn of her throat and lungs. "I'm okay," Zalera assured, looking to Yeul. "I'll be fine. Take care of yourself, Yeul. You got it?"_

_Yeul didn't answer._

_"This will go much faster and be far less painful if you answer my question now. Where are the crystals?"_

_Yeul swallowed. She shook her head, but Zalera could tell that Yeul knew. The goddess made Yeul bear witness to a secret, and Yeul was going to keep that secret._

_"I don't know anything."_

_Yeul was devoted. It was one of the things that Zalera loved about her._

_But it was going to get her killed._

_A surge of thunder magic shot through Zalera. She shook in its wake, teeth chattering around, "I-I'mmmm O-O-kkkkaaaaay."_

_"Are you sure that you don't know?"_

_Yeul looked into Zalera's eyes, her smile dim, but it was a smile just for her. "I'm sorry, Z."_

_Mustering up her strength, Zalera smiled back. "I know."_

_Yeul had a duty to Etro and humanity._

_Zalera had a duty to Yeul._

_She would endure, for her._

* * *

Lightning kept her head down as she sat there, taking it all in with her hands to her lips. Her thoughts and questions remained barred behind her fingers as she stared at Zalera like she was Hope's reflection, a mirror into his mind. Lightning's gaze shifted, lens adjusting to see the woman before her. Zalera was a victim too, her own horrific past tracing her footsteps. Lightning tried to put herself in Zalera's shoes, Hope in Yeul's, but it was too nightmarish.

Guilt whipped its lash into Lightning's back. She wanted to hear of Hope's demons, but she couldn't face them herself.

"In the end, they won the battle and she gave them the information. It was after one of the times that they beat me into a pulverized mess. I wasn't strong enough to stay with her. The pain, the exhaustion closed in and…" Zalera's hand shot out toward her weapon, and Lightning's instinct led her hand to her own blade, but Zalera's hand quietly, innocently curled around its handle, "and when I woke up, she was gone." Zalera pulled the chakram into her lap like a ward against her demons. "Soon after was when they brought in Hope."

"But-"

"No," Zalera said, voice solemn. "If it's about Hope, I can't-"

"What's going on with him now?"

"You mean… when he tenses up and seems like he's somewhere else? When he travels to a place where not even your voice can reach him? When pain eclipses his expression and fear drives his motions?"

It was uncanny how much Zalera knew. Had she really been experiencing the same?

Or… had she been keeping her own eye on Hope, too?

"And how do I help him? It's gotten so bad that, I'm afraid of what he might do."

"To you?"

"No. I don't care what he does to me. I can take it. But he gets so lost in his mind that he's blind to what he does to himself. I don't know how to help him through that."

"All I can say is that when I'm experiencing flashbacks, it's not like watching a movie or moving through a nightmare. It's like I'm there. In the moment. I eventually come out of mine, feeling like I've woken from a ninety year coma. There's no one here to worry about me." Zalera flashed a smile, chuckling, and Lightning realized how lucky she was that Hope came back. "What does Hope say?"

"He gives me some bullshit line about my presence being enough."

"You ever stop to think that maybe it's not bullshit?"

"It's Hope being Hope. He's saying something sweet and flowery to get me to shut up."

"Hope has sincerity built into his bones. If he tells you that your presence is helping, then it is. It's not a _cure_ , but can't you find comfort in being a treatment for his symptoms?"

Lightning thought about Hope's smile as he would come back to her. The way his heart eased after he woke from his nightmares. The way he fell asleep beside her without worry or fear.

Lightning swallowed, realizing just how thick-headed she became. "How do you go on?" Lightning asked, because the future felt murky, like trudging through the swamps and Lightning wanted to know how to find the grassy field at the end of this march. "How do you continue to live after everything that happened?"

Zalera looked toward the door where the purple backpack hung. "I think about what and who I'm living for. For so long that was Yeul. Now… I guess I live for Hope. I want to help him take back his future, make sure that the future that Yeul believed in comes true." Zalera's gaze searched Lightning, like she was looking for approval, acceptance.

Lightning smirked, smacking her hands down on her thighs as she stood. "Hope can be a handful. I can use all the help that I can get."

* * *

"He met with Waynes. I caught them," Nivien said, her voice raising until Hope reminded her with a look to keep it down. She took a breath before continuing. "That swine. There was this… chumminess between them. I doubt this was their first meeting."

"Eh. I wouldn't be so sure. Waynes tries to act chummy with everyone. It's to his benefit to be on people's good sides. He's a businessman to the core."

"Cass doesn't know what he's doing. He can't. Associating with _them_." There was a snarl to Nivien's words, her distaste for all things Sanctum still the most obvious thing about her. She blamed them for her parents being stuck in Cocoon, even used to get in trouble for openly accusing them during inappropriate moments.

"Cass isn't an idiot. Whatever he's doing… it's dumb, but I doubt that his moves lack calculation."

"He's going to get himself killed."

Hope felt a dizzy spell waft his way. He leaned against the wall to disguise his fatigue. This was too much. The crystals. His brand. The nightmares. The Sanctum. Kori's invitation. Lightning's distress. Nivien's worry. Cass' danger. It swirled in Hope's head and he found himself wanting more of that ultra-nutrient slop that they had been shoving in his face since he was discharged from the hospital.

"Hey." Nivien was suddenly in front of him, standing on her toes to look in his eyes. "Do you… Is there… Should I get Alyssa or call a doctor or-?"

"No… it's normal. Just give me a minute." Hope rubbed his palm into his eye, smiling to soften Nivien's concern.

"This is normal? That's supposed to make me feel better?"

"No, it's supposed to help you understand."

"You're barely standing, Hope. Why are you here? You should be recovering. Here, I'll take you home," Nivien pulled on Hope's arm, urging him toward the door, but it only offset his balance. Hope slipped, and Nivien tried to catch him. Hope saw the shock on her face, her arms raise in action, before he felt the impact of the ground.

"You… you okay?" Hope groaned.

"Am I okay? You-" Nivien stopped. Hope was on top of her, trying to hold his weight off of her, but their faces were close, her nose a whisper against his cheek. Her breath tickled his skin. Her lips were moving closer, and closer.

"Please don't, Niven." He ached for the warmth that she promised. The tenderness that she was so ready to offer. But it was not Nivien's warmth that Hope wanted. Hope hated doing this to her and would have rather ended up in this position with anyone else. Yet here they were, Nivien reaching for him, while he was too busy staring at Lightning's back.

Was he always going to be stuck watching her back?

Nivien backed her head away. She helped him up off of the floor, guided him toward his chair. Lightning came to relieve her, and Nivien left without a second's pass.

Lightning looked tired when she came back, tired but determined. "Everything okay?" she asked, looking to the hastily closed door and back to Hope's surely disheveled form.

"I… kind of fell. But it's okay. She helped me up and I'm fine now." Hope knew how little his wide, toothy smile convinced Lightning of anything, but he followed his instinct and bore it anyway.

"You sure?" Lightning's eyes scanned him, readying herself to run to his aid, but she paused in her approach. She seemed to rethink her actions, curiously.

"Yeah, I…" Hope could feel Nivien beneath him, her breath on his face. He wanted to overwrite those sensations. Instead he focused himself back on task, staring Lightning down and opening as much of his heart as he could. "I want to thank you, Light. I want to thank you for being patient with me. I know that I've been off since I got back, but please know that my hesitation in telling you is not about you." Hope attempted to stand, wavering on shaky legs until Lightning leant him a hand and a shoulder for leverage. "I know you want to help me through everything, but you are already helping me. Just by being here for me and remaining patient while I work myself out."

Lightning's body tensed as they shifted and Hope worried about weighing her down. He let go, and Lightning stood there. Her gaze burned into his shoulder. She didn't say a word, but Hope didn't mind.

"I never could have made it this far in my life without you. You know... when I was running here with Zalera dying in my arms, I began to lose hope. I found myself floundering to stay strong. I was losing my fight. My fight to survive. Just as my legs began to buckle beneath us, I remembered the words of a soldier. 'Fighting without hope is no way to live, it's just another way to die _.'_ " Hope brushed a stray strand of hair from Lightning's lip, folded it back behind her ear. "You have helped me in more ways than you can imagine, Light."

Hope's hand fell to Lightning's until it trailed up to the brush of a burn left from the day he was taken. Her previous talk of scars left Hope thinking on the ones that she bore. This one in her fight for survival, one she got because of him. He swiped his hand over the burn and in a breath it was gone. "There, that was never supposed to be there in the first place." He then knelt down, repeating the process as he healed the scars of the gorgonopsid claw marks that remained on her thigh. Her smooth, pale skin was left, and Hope dipped his head to lay a kiss on the spot.

He immediately regretted it afterwards. It was terribly inappropriate and creepy and undoubtedly qualified as sexual harassment. Hope jumped to his feet, stammering apologies as he waited for Lightning to punch his face in. Except… she didn't. She didn't move, didn't react. She stood there staring at him. Just… staring.

And staring.

"Lightning?" Hope drew closer, worry pulling him in until Lightning leaned forward.

And kissed him.

It was the briefest brush of lips, lasting a total of four racing heartbeats, but it happened. Hope could feel the imprint of her left behind on his lips as she pulled back. His fingertips brushed over his lips that zinged in the aftermath. He could feel a blush burn all the way to his ears, his heart skipping like an ill-recorded song. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do.

Lightning Farron kissed him. Lightning kissed him.

_Light_ kissed _him_.

Hope shook himself from his stupor and looked up.

But his office was empty.

Lightning was gone.


	15. Clarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A declaration, a decision, and an unexpected visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Family and writing just don't seem to have any respect for each other. Sorry for the unintended break. You'd think I would have more time to write during the national quarantine, not less.

Hope looked awful. Exhausted. Unfocused. Uneven.

That was what Lightning thought when she returned from Zalera's. As Nivien sped past her, making a beeline for the exit as Hope struggled to breathe, Lightning wondered what had happened. A PTSD flare up? Another disagreement? Lightning wanted to blame Hope's state on Nivien. The woman was supposed to help him. Supervise him. Not leave him looking worse than he was when Lightning left. But that anger was misplaced, wasn't it? Lightning was the one that left him. She was supposed to protect him come hell or high water. Instead she-

_"He doesn't want to talk about it. You can't accept that. So you've come to me to stick your nose where it doesn't belong."_

She did the one thing that she knew she shouldn't have.

" _Going behind his back like this… It makes me question your bond with him. Not to mention your character."_

The guilt seized every nerve in her body, Hope's words cementing it into her bones.

"…I want to thank you for being patient with me."

Lightning could feel the color drain from her face. Years of practice made concealing her emotions effortless, but she felt a portion of her stony expression of indifference crack. Lightning could have cursed Hope for it, because he had always been a damn good chisel. He chipped away at her mask so easily. In the simplest of ways.

With a smile that eased her worry despite the chaos of the world.

With his touch as it healed wounds that she left forgotten.

Lightning didn't know what was happening as Hope dropped down in front of her, the brush of his fingertips tickling her thigh. There must have been something to his cure spell. The heat of it rushed to her head, its warmth tingling in her spine. It left her breathless. Made her feel like she was falling. She'd never experienced that feeling before, and Lightning wondered if Hope's cure spells had gained a dangerous potency.

The spell finished. The green glow faded, dimming in her veins until it was just her skin, cold without the magic. Without his touch. Lightning stared at the crown of Hope's head, eyes unblinking as his lips touched the spot, reigniting the warm, dizzying sensation throughout her body.

Hope retreated quickly. He stood, rubbing the back of his neck, his face exploding with color. Lightning needed to say something. Why wasn't she saying something?

_Reprimand him. Make a joke. Act like it didn't happen._

Lightning continued to stare.

Hope stared back, the green of his eyes bright and endless. "Lightning?"

_Damn chisel._

Lightning dove in. She pressed her lips to Hope's. It felt weird. At first. _Hope. This is Hope._ was what her mind kept saying. But her body gave in to the feeling. It felt right. Satisfying like placing the last piece of a puzzle. Seeing the entire picture.

Hope's face said the opposite.

Lightning stepped back. Panic drove her from Hope's office. She ran to the safety of her room like she was running from the enemy on the battlefield. She couldn't breathe, all of the air seizing in her lungs as a question swirled in her mind.

_What did I do?_

_What have I done?_

The door slammed behind her. Locks clicked with electronic _thunks_. Lightning came back to herself in the kitchen as she stared down the neon numbers on her coffeepot. She watched the time tick by, let the seconds pacify her racing heart, instill within her the quiet stillness of this moment. She was strong. She could deal with this like she dealt with everything else.

It was a mistake. A misunderstanding. She could explain it away. Hope would probably pretend it didn't happen. He was nice that way, letting other people keep their dignity when he could all too easily pry. They could forget this incident happened, close the book on it, burn it away.

A minute passed and still her heart raced. The feeling of Hope's closeness, his tenderness pulsed inside of her body. Her body wasn't forgetting, but it was burning, all the way to the tips of her toes. Lightning didn't understand it. She had never felt such deep, smoldering sensations with any other person. Her most intimate moments with others had been one night stands. They were quick, meaningless encounters. Faceless men that helped her let off steam when a run and a punching bag weren't enough. This… felt nothing like that.

Lightning settled herself against the kitchen counter, tapping her boot against the floor. It was surprisingly difficult to dwell on this feeling, yet it was unavoidable. It made her think of her younger self. When she was fourteen and just beginning to grow into her body. She was still a kid, a love-struck teenager. Back when she was full of innocence, before death and war had had a chance to strip her of it. She met her first love that year, weeks before everything came crashing down. His name had been Carver. A goofball with crooked teeth and the brightest smile, he never tired of cracking jokes. Even the worst ones would get Lightning to laugh. He was her first kiss, became her first boyfriend, until she came home from a date one night to find her mother collapsed at the bottom of the stairs.

Her mother was admitted to the hospital. Lightning and her sister became captives to its halls. Lightning felt so much older as she sat in her mother's room, her sister practically Velcroed to her side as they listened to their options in seeking guardianship. Nothing seemed important anymore. Not her friends, or school, certainly not a dumb thing like love. Carver was nothing more than a distraction, so she cut him out of her life. She had to focus on keeping her family whole. Her life became about survival.

Lightning thought that she had learned from her experience from Carver. Men had no place in her life, in her heart. They made her sloppy, distracted her. Who's to say that if she hadn't been so busy in her little teenage bliss that she wouldn't have noticed something wrong with her mother?

If she hadn't been with Carver, maybe she could have prevented her mother's death.

Everything would have been different.

Yet there she stood, eclipsed in the moodiness of heartache when she needed to focus on saving her sister and Cocoon. Hope's shocked face remained at the forefront of her mind. It became frustratingly clear that she wasn't going to be able to vanquish all feelings of that kiss within the confines of her kitchen. Staring at the clock and breathing in the passage of time was only getting her so far. Should she sleep? Run? Talk to Serah?

Lightning jolted at the pounds against her door.

"Light?"

Hope's voice drew her eyes closed. She hung her head, drawing a breath that ended with a, " _Shit_. So much for pretending."

"Light. Please let me in." Lightning could hear Hope's panting breaths, the movement of his body as he pressed himself against the door. "We need to talk," Hope pleaded, but then he broke off in a laugh. "Let's chat?"

Lightning bit back a chuckle as she was reminded of earlier that day. A similar difficult situation that they were plunging themselves into. Why? Because they cared. They cared about each other.

She cared about Hope. She couldn't doubt that.

"What do you want, Hope?"

"You know what I want. I want to talk."

"Just forget it. I don't know why I-"

"Yes, you do! _Light_ -" Desperation slowed his voice to a pained crawl. There was a soft _tump_ against the door, and Lightning wondered why Hope didn't just use his skeleton key that was the Director's card. "Don't do this. Don't be a coward, Farron. You don't just kiss me and run away. That's not the soldier I know. The Lightning I know doesn't run from anything."

 _Oh, how wrong you are._ Lightning shook her head at his words, choking on the fact that he didn't know her at all."You've got a lot of nerve saying something like that to me."

"Please let me in. We can't… We can't leave things like this."

Lightning held her face in her hand, groaning into her palm because he was right. Short of letting him camp outside of her door until she was forced to jump to her death out the window, she had no other option. He deserved answers. And frankly, so did she.

Lightning turned the knob, letting the door fall open as she retreated back to the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of water from the faucet, her dry throat an excuse to keep her hands busy. She could hear him entering behind her, his steps cautious. The door closed and she felt penned in. Confined. No turning back. He was in the kitchen with her, sharing the same space, breathing the same air, and it felt like an invasion.

The room became silent as Hope searched for words and Lightning offered none. She wanted it to stay silent. No words. No confessions. No rejections.

She didn't want this. This awkwardness. This tension. She didn't want anything to change between them. Kissing him had been an impulse. One she should have fought tooth and nail against in order to preserve their relationship. One she should have ignored because it meant nothing.

So why didn't she?

Why did she give in?

What exactly was it that she was giving in to?

"I'm sorry." It was a soft, barely audible whisper that sounded just as pained as his pleas had been. It caught her off guard. An apology was the last thing that she expected of him. "Please look at me."

Her gaze rose before she could think. Hope looked so sad, even as he smiled.

"I love you."

If Lightning thought that she couldn't breathe before…

It was a joke. It had to be a joke, right?

Right?

"I love you, Light."

There was no laughter. No cruel 'Just kidding!' or crude 'Psych!' Zalera stated it perfectly when she said that Hope had sincerity written into his bones. That was all that Lightning could read on him. Sincerity. Hope looked at her like she breathed life into the moon, strung stars across the sky.

_"It's unbelievably obvious. Hope has feelings for you."_

" _No one cares for you more than this kid, right here."_

How was it that everyone around her could see it so clearly when Lightning found herself blindsided by this Hope in front of her? One that stood confident in his feelings, declaring them like they were always present. Draped across his chest. A medal that was displayed and adored and given.

Hope liked to tell Lightning how strong she was, how he admired her strength, used it to pull himself up. But Lightning knew, as she looked at Hope straight on, the man bearing his heart to her the way she never could, that he was so much stronger than she could ever hope to be. Because right then, Lightning couldn't say a word. She could barely hold his gaze, her face scrunching up with an almost feral confusion.

"Umh, thank you? For the kiss, by the way. I… should have responded- I _wanted_ to respond. I was just a little thunderstruck, I guess. I'm sorry for leaving you hanging and I didn't know how else to fix this other than just saying it. My feelings, I mean. Maker, and now I'm rambling." Hope sighed, ruffling his bangs and tugging on them in frustration before his hand fell away. "I love you."

_I don't know what to do with this. What do I… How did one kiss lead to this?_

"And I know that... it's... that's a bit much for you right now and I know that you're not ready for such a... commitment, but that's okay." As he continued with his words, Hope took her stiff hands in his and slowly laced their fingers together. Their gazes locked and Lightning wondered if her heart was beating loud enough for him to hear it. Hell, the entire building had to be able to hear that. "Just know that when you are, I am."

Hope stood a breath away from her, his hands holding hers, his gaze holding hers. Hope held her like she was the most valuable thing in the universe, a rare, exquisite prize. That indescribable feeling washed over her again, Hope's passion a tidal pull.

"I figured this out a while ago..." His expression turned sheepish, his fingers moving to caress against hers. He swallowed, tilting his head the way he did when debating over something in his head. "No. I've known for a long, long time."

"Knew what?" Lightning asked, far harsher than she'd intended, but she couldn't relieve herself of this edginess. It was like she was tip toeing across knives, waiting to trip and fall face first into doom. Despite the danger, she hung on his words, kept walking.

"That I had feelings for you. Strong feelings. And they didn't go away. I thought, you know, that I-I... that it was just a crush since you were so beautiful and strong and I looked up to you so much that I... But, no, those feelings stayed and they grew. I thought that I had no chance. That you would never return them. I'd resigned myself to being your friend, but I knew that I could never deny how much I care about you."

Throat dry, Lightning tried to respond, but couldn't, her heart hammering in her vocal chords. Hope leaned in, creeping close, giving her plenty of time to stop him, pull away, run. She didn't. Hope closed the distance between them. Their lips connected and something pulsed, an electric current sparking at the touch. Time stretched. Inside of it Lightning found trust, adoration, longing. Her own want drove her deeper into Hope than she dared to trespass into before. Hope's hands grasped at her, innocent and fumbling, but became bolder as they slid across her sides, arms encircling her waist. Lightning's hand gripped Hope's collar, scrunching it in her hold as she dove in deeper still.

"This... isn't a good idea," Lightning whispered, as time stretched too thin, breaking the moment in two. Two people. Two very different people.

"But... Light... I don't understand-"

Lightning removed herself from his hold, space clearing the heated haze from her mind. "Think about it. You're still a teenager. You're my boss. I'm supposed to guard and defend you, not..." Lightning gnawed on her lip, trying to ignore Hope's downtrodden expression like she was kicking him out from under her umbrella. "I won't lie to you. I can't do this. I'm not fit for this… love… thing." Lightning flapped her hand between them. "You deserve so much more than a person like me can give. You should be with someone who can love you openly." Lightning wanted to stop there, build up her walls, shut the floodgates, and remain the strong, untouchable soldier. Not this fragile, pitiful creature. "If we did this… I don't want to lose you."

"Light," Hope said, and even her name was held in his mouth with such care, a special, cherished gift. He surprised her with a half-laugh and a smile. "My age? Really? I'm only two years younger than you now. You're still a kid to any adult around you." Lightning cut a glare his way. He ignored it with a chuckle as he took a step toward her. "I'm everybody's boss. Does that mean that I have to be lonely for the rest of my life?" His smile turned into a grin while he continued to pick apart her meager excuses. He took another step toward her, her eyebrows twitching as he drew closer and her arms folding before her. "You can protect me and be with me, too." Another step. "You are perfectly capable of love. You just have to open yourself to it." Another step and another twitch of the brow. "I know what I want, regardless of what you think I deserve. I want to be with you." She grimaced as he took yet another step forward, placing him mere inches from her. Hands gently took hold of her face, raising her head up to meet his gaze. He waited to continue until her eyes met his. The hands that cradled her face shook. "You won't lose me, Light. I'm not going anywhere. You couldn't lose me if you tried." Prying her lower lip from her teeth, Hope sucked on it before Lightning pressed herself back into him, meshing their lips together and putting her arms around his neck.

Hope's persistence was like a lasso that wrangled her in, keeping her tied to him. The kiss left her shaking in her boots, every nerve going haywire. She broke from him, and Hope read her expression before she could think to mask it.

"You need time."

Lightning kept her head down, her bangs obscuring her face from view. It was like she was whirling around inside of a tornado. One second she was confused, seeking excuses. The next she was angry, ready to condemn herself for crossing a line. The next she was shocked at Hope's appearance, his confession. The next she was melting into him. Then she spun into regret. Until finally she didn't know where she was or how she felt. She just kept spinning around and around and she wanted to stop and think for a minute.

"You should take tomorrow off... and tonight, as well. Just think about it, please?"

As much as Lightning wanted to reach out to Hope, hold him, pull him in and breathe in all that he offered, accept him, make him feel as wanted as he deserved to be, she reached for privacy. The concealment of thought and the gravity of sanity. "Who will take my place?"

"I'll talk to Zalera or..." _Nivien_. It was a flit across Hope's mind, Lightning was sure. "No, I'm sure Z won't mind."

"All right," Lightning said, and as Hope gave a resolute nod, stuttering out a goodbye that struck as awkward after such a heartfelt display, Lightning felt something lighten inside of her. "Did you really thank me for kissing you?"

Embarrassment drove Hope's hand to his face as his shoulders sunk. His laugh morphed into a whine. "I did."

"Dorkus."

"Can we just forget-?"

"Not a chance."

* * *

Red fabric was the unfamiliar sight that Zalera woke to. It stroked something unpleasant inside of her as she laid there in Lightning's bed, watching Lightning's charge. Something wild and feral and bloody and it reminded her of why she doused herself in so much green. She had agreed to watch over Hope while Lightning took a 'training break,' as she had called it. Flan snot was what Zalera called it. An excuse to cover over the way that Lightning and Hope were dancing around each other. The woman wasn't even staying in the same house as him, opting to settle back into her place at the Academy Base while Zalera took residence in her room.

This left Zalera to glare up at red, red, red. It brought on those nauseating flashes. Her blood pooling from her skin. The sound as it splattered on the floor. Watching it gush from Yeul's body. Feeling the blade slice-

Nope. She was up. No sleep for her. Not anymore.

She meandered downstairs to find Hope in the kitchen. "Training again?" Zalera asked. He was freshly showered and dressed, sipping from a mug of coffee like it wasn't three in the morning. "What happened to sleep?"

Hope winced at the reprimand. "Ah. Sleep. Such an elusive creature. I have only heard of it in myths, but I swear I shall capture her sometime."

"Dork."

"I seem to be hearing that a lot lately."

"Like from a certain gun-toting lightning bug?"

Hope's sipping hitched, and he turned away. "Cold." He poured his coffee down the sink, watching the contents circle the drain until every bit of black escaped from sight.

"You should watch your exertion. The strain you put on your muscles when you train could tear something in your condition. We have a specialized regimen from your 'highly qualified' doctors for a reason."

"I needed a break." From what, Hope didn't say, but Zalera knew. Breaks were becoming a more frequent and maddening necessity for her, as well. "I wasn't in the training room long."

"Only about three hours."

"How did you- I have a stalker on my hands now."

Zalera leveled him with a half-lidded stare. "I wouldn't be doing my job right if I didn't know. Funny that you didn't mention your basement gym when you were showing off your castle of a house. Are we not good enough?"

"I have to have some secrets."

"Oh, so mysterious."

"You have no idea."

"Seriously, though. No more training sessions like that. Not without a medic on standby. It's the rules."

Hope held up a hand, energy humming in his palm, grinning like a tyke back from his first successful hunt.

"I don't care about your fancy l'Cie powers. I mean it."

Hope sulked, but it did little to change her mind. "It's like I have a horde of mothers breathing down my neck."

* * *

Lightning's eyes scanned through the brush, watching for any movement, wary of the slight upturn of a leaf, a stray droplet of water. Her ears were open, capturing the buzz of insects, the croaks and caws of wildlife, as she tried to detect incoming attacks. None of it was real. All projections and tricks of technology. The simufield was like that. It simulated battle, turned an ordinary gymnasium into a battlefield of the user's making. Depending on the data obtained, it could recreate the terrain of fallen cities, historic battles, even absorb the memories of the user to project the field. Lightning could choose to fight in the desert, beneath water, within a snowstorm. The forest was her current choosing, focusing on combat that was most applicable on Pulse.

A quick shift of the brush had Lightning turning her attention to her right, but it was a feint as a battler attacked her unguarded side. The robotic soldier surged forth, its baton coming down toward her head. Lightning brought up her forearm, taking the hit that struck with bone-shattering force. She pushed back, leveraging herself forward enough to throw her leg out, aiming a kick to its abdomen. Her kick sent it flying back into the brush from whence it came, but out jumped another, its gun aimed at her throat.

Battlers were the chosen enemy combatants within the simufield. The battlers had the same morphing capabilities as the field itself. The user could decide to fight people, animals, Pulsian creatures, bots. Fal'Cie were a new addition, having been crafted and uploaded only since the fall of Cocoon. Improvements for them were being rendered every day, though the renderings were limited with the lack of data on fal'Cie battle capabilities. Lightning's current enemies were a reproduction of Sanctum officers. She still held quite a cache of hatred for those people stored within her. She thought that they were the perfect enemy to feel the brunt of her frustration.

Lightning drew her gunblade, slicing up to cut the barrel of the battler's gun. Her blade missed by a hair. Lightning went on the defensive, dodging bullet after bullet as she leapt up into the tree branches. The battler trekked her movements, its AI eventually predicting them as it shot at a branch mere moments before Lightning was set to land there. Lightning changed course, instead swinging down from the tree and splashing into a creek bed. Right where the battler wanted her. She found herself surrounded by enemy troops, their guns trained on her.

"Impressive. I see the Academy lab geeks have been busy upgrading your brain," Lightning said, wiping the sweat from her brow. The battlers were powered by an advanced AI, one that sensed the user's weaknesses. It recorded attack patterns and responded accordingly, always predicting incoming moves so the user had to adapt in order to win.

In order to survive.

The battlers gave the signal, a synthesized voice telling her to stand down, give up and admit defeat.

"Like hell."

Lightning moved, swift and deadly in her attacks. Her enemy was holding nothing back, so she wouldn't either. Every strike and hit and slice relieved the tension within her, unbinding her from the thoughts and emotions that wound her tight. She could feel Hope's hands, ghosts on her skin, twirling her emotions around at a dizzying pace. She could smell him around her, the tropical coconutty scent that wafted off of his hair, covering over the slightest whiff of oil that stuck to his skin. His taste lingered on her tongue, a strong fruity vanilla flavor that Hope complained about when having to drink his nutri-packs during his recovery. Everything Hope stayed on her like a stain. It was oppressive, obsessive, and she wanted it gone. Eliminated. Decimated. So she could go back to being herself. The lone wolf. The soldier. The sister. Easy words that defined her.

Lightning didn't know how to process a word like love. She loved her sister. She loved her parents. She loved her l'Cie family. But this. Romantic love. It was a baffling thing. Something that couldn't be quantified or qualified. It couldn't be touched or seen or analyzed. It was just there. Beyond reason. Lightning didn't like that.

She didn't like how it made her feel lost, confused, uncertain. It was new territory and Lightning didn't have a map or a guide. She wasn't sure if she even had a destination. Was her answer supposed to be the destination? Or did that come after? With wedding bells or heartbreak or death?

Lightning aimed her gun at her last opponent, her bullet about to drill its way into the battler's forehead, right between the glowing orange eyes of its helmet, when the field cleared. The trees and streams and skies and even the glowing cocoon above her vanished. In its place was the bleak, gray metal room. The true forms of the battlers were mechanically lowered back beneath the floor where they resided. The floor sealed up and there was nothing. Lightning dropped her arm, sending a glare to the control screen only to find Rygdea standing in front of it, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Looks like something's got your panties in a twist." He had a training blade on his belt, another in his hand and Lightning was more than ready to take that as an invitation. "Care to share, Princess?"

Lightning huffed, shaking off her fatigue. "You invade my session for a reason, or did you just come to get your ass handed to you?"

"Thought you looked a little lonely." He tossed the weapon her way, and Lightning set her gunblade to the side. "C'mon, smile. Hold your head high. Make yourself presentable. A prince has deemed you worthy of his company. Show a little interest."

"This princess eats princes like you for dinner."

Rygdea pulled his blade just in time to catch Lightning's attack. Her swing pushed him back into the wall, pulling a, "Gah!" from his throat.

"Sorry," Lightning said in mock apology. "Didn't know you were such a delicate flower."

"Me?" Rygdea grinned, wiping the blood from his mouth, "I'm just getting started."

* * *

_Hope lay on his mat, the cool Pulse air drifting over him. It was one of the breezier nights, the suffocating mugginess of their new environment giving them a brief reprieve, though the bugs were still out in oppressive numbers. Hope could hear one buzzing around his ear, zipping around his body until he felt a prick at his thigh. He was going to have a swollen lump there in the morning, but Hope didn't move to swat it away. He was too busy pretending to be asleep._

_Their camp was quiet. Snores and sleep murmurings and restless rustlings were all that Hope could hear as their group had chosen to rest for the night. Lightning kept watch. She was always the first to volunteer, letting her shift run long so Snow could catch just a little more rest, though Hope didn't know why if she hated the guy so much. Hope remained awake. Sleep terrified him. It was filled with a deep, dark blackness. He would stare down into a hole, bottomless, unfathomably endless. He knew his mother was inside of there somewhere. He could save her if he jumped in. He never could. Or he was running. Running, running, running, but there were always footsteps behind him, bullets whizzing past his head. He couldn't see who was chasing him, didn't have the time or the courage to look. He was alone as he ran. He didn't know why._

_Since the purge Hope had built up a mountain of distrust towards sleep. He didn't tell anyone. He didn't want to be any more of a burden, make the team question his place at their sides. He didn't know if he could handle another attack from Alexander. So Hope pretended to sleep, his eyes shut, flopping himself over this way and that, kicking out a foot every now and then to keep up the act._

_The barest hint of shuffling caught Hope's attention. He risked a peek. Lightning was leaning over Snow, her back towards him. Hope couldn't tell what she was doing until she stood back up, holding a small item up in the air. It was Serah's crystallized tear. She was staring into its fragile, yet brilliant blueness. She turned, casting a glance over their sleeping group, and Hope hastily scrunched his eyes shut. When he tested one eye open, Lightning was gone from sight. He sat up, catching a glimpse of pink as she disappeared down a side path._

_Curiosity tugged him in her direction. Hope knew he shouldn't snoop. Lightning deserved her privacy, her secrets. Hope didn't want to break something as fragile as their tenuous connection because of his peeping eyes. He couldn't handle it if Lightning turned her back on him again. She was someone precious to him now. His mentor, his idol, his... goddess. As childish and utterly embarrassing as the thought was, it was true. She was like a goddess in his eyes. A divine being that could take on anything. A force that had no worthy opponent._

_His curiosity won out. He figured that at worst he could blame it on sleep walking. Hope crept forward, taking Lightning's teachings to heart as he maneuvered around sticks and branches to crouch down out of sight. Lightning was talking out loud. She held the crystal to her chest, breathing in pained pants._

_"It wasn't only that, but I-_ Ugh _, this is stupid. Talking to a teardrop? For the love of Etro, I've gone insane. I'll take comfort in the fact that I'm not alone in my descent into madness. Your hero and the rest of the_ l'Cie _are here, too." Lightning snorted. "I'm struggling, Serah."_

_Hope could feel the emotional weight of those words, hear the despair and sorrow in her tone. Lightning was crumbling, holding that crystal like it was her sister. Hope didn't know what to make of the sight. She was the strongest of their group, taking the brunt of the damage, leading them all forward in a heedless charge. Lightning's emotions weren't a new thing to witness. She had her outbursts. Of anger as she lashed out at Snow. Of sadness as Serah floated out of reach. Of regret as she stared into space, an unknown shame latched onto her back. Yet this was new, something softer, and more genuine. It was mesmerizing to see this Lightning, vulnerable and open._

_"I thought I could do this. We're heading to Oerba, as I'm sure the lughead's already told you. But I don't think it's... I want to save you, Serah. I want to find you. Free you. I don't know how. I'm blind here. Instinct can only lead me so far. Think you can lend me a hand?"_

_Silence._

" _That's what I thought."_

_The slight glimmer of Lightning's faith burned out. Hope could hear a sniff. He leaned forward to catch one of Lightning's tears roll down her cheek. Hope understood how Snow could carry around Serah's tear as he found himself wanting to hold one of Lightning's. Take it. Preserve it and keep it for himself. A part of her that he could have._

_Hope watched Lightning cry. It was a heart-stopping sight. Her tears fell. Her body shook. It hit home just how human Lightning was. She wasn't some indestructible, unstoppable soldier. She wasn't a machine, uncaring of the world around her. She wasn't some goddess kept high on a pedestal, out of anyone's reach. Before, she'd appeared to embody the definition of strength, ferocity, confidence, everything that Hope had wanted to attain. This Lightning was shocking, but not unwelcome. This was a piece of her. A jagged shard of the real Lightning. The Lightning that wasn't Lightning at all. And even in this broken state, she couldn't have been more beautiful._

That had been the night that Hope first realized how deeply his feelings ran. He never allowed himself to entertain the idea that they would be returned. He was content to keep them hidden inside of himself, let Lightning live her life without the burden of his feelings. It was easier that way. Safe.

Her kiss had been the most sudden, out of this world experience. Lightning could have told him that he had been dreaming and he wouldn't have doubted her. But he felt her there, inside of him. Rushing through his veins, trembling him down to his bones. No matter what Lightning decided, Hope would always have that. A moment for himself. A place that he could live in like a walk in dream built from memory. If Lightning turned him down, that would have to be enough.

The day passed like a baseball to the face. Quick, sudden, painful, the aftermath chaotic. He was still adjusting as he returned to his old role. Every move he made still ached, in his body, in his mind. The meetings and paperwork kept coming, and Hope found himself grateful for the lack of downtime. He didn't need to dwell. Lightning's answer would come, and he would accept it.

* * *

Zalera kept watch over Hope. He remained distant, withdrawn in a way that was unsettling. With Alyssa and in meetings and even as he greeted others in the halls, he smiled and laughed jovially like he was the same as ever. But quiet moments drew Hope into himself, left him standing on his own island of thought. Lightning's absence caused Zalera to tighten up, remain hyper-focused on Hope's reactions.

She couldn't help but wonder if this unacknowledged rift was her fault.

Hope was sitting at his desk, eyes staring through the same paper he had been holding for the past twenty minutes. Zalera interrupted with a knock on his desk, drawing his attention. "Lightning isn't taking a training break, is she?"

"Is that what she told you?"

"It's her official cover story." Zalera nodded, sagely.

Hope laughed, thin and breathy. He was calmer than Zalera thought he would be. She expected the blushing boy that had regaled her with tales of Lightning during their time in the ark. Now Hope looked composed, mature somehow. There was still a resigned sadness there that she was wary of poking. "She's… dealing with some new information."

"Crap. I'm sorry, Hope. She was so desperate. I couldn't say no."

Hope's brow plunged downward like a triffid diving in to attack. "Couldn't say no to... what?"

"She came to my place yesterday. She was looking for details about what happened in the ark and…"

Hope rose, his movements slow, face eclipsed in disbelief. "And…?"

"I'm a weaker person than I seem. I couldn't ignore how desperate she was to help you."

"I _chose_ to keep Lightning out of this. Why would you tell her?"

"I didn't," Zalera jumped to clarify, baffling Hope more as his nose crinkled. "I told her about me. My story. I didn't touch yours. Your story is yours to tell. I said as much."

Hope's thoughts ran wild across his face, and Zalera lost count of how many times he blinked, of the minutes that passed as his expression morphed with every emotion possible. He shook his head, fingers at his temples. "Why?! Our experiences are similar enough for her to know- I have no idea how to- What am I supposed to do?"

Zalera's guilt waned at Hope's piercing look of disappointment, of accusation. Zalera lashed out with a defensive, "It happened to me, too." Even though it was not what she wanted to say. She was supposed to plead for forgiveness, seek out a method to mend the rift. "I have a right to talk about what happened to me, don't I?"

Hope cowed under that, stuttered out an apology followed by a, "Yes. Yes, I'm sorry. I'm being selfish. I didn't intend to trivialize or belittle your pain by prioritizing my own." Hope ran a hand down his tie, smoothing it down a few more times than necessary. "Dammit, Light."

"I'm sorry, Hope. She begged me. I haven't been needed like that since… She was running herself into the ground looking for information. Coming from me- Maybe what she knows now is worse or better than what she had been imagining, but at least it's solid. It's an excuse. I know. All of it. I stepped out of line and now you're here and she's not. I didn't mean to cause a rift between you two. That was the last thing that I wanted."

"It's not your fault."

"But-"

"When did you tell her?"

"Last night. She said that she left you in the care of someone who could be trusted."

"Hah, that's surprising." Hope sighed. "She kissed me. Last night. With the timeline of events, it's not your story that pulled her away from me."

Zalera cocked her head to the side. "That… I didn't know that. Wow. I. I feel silly somehow now."

"Lightning kissed me and I didn't respond." Hope looked troubled as his gaze fell. He traced a shape into the wood of his desk. A triangle, maybe?

"But you love her."

"That's why I went after her. It was sudden and I was too stunned, too _shocked_. She misunderstood and left before I could explain that. I had to chase her down. I kissed her and I told her that I loved her. Now... it's her move."

_You're handling this with a maturity beyond your years. I'm proud of you._

"She cares deeply for you, Hope. She kissed you." Zalera chuckled as she imagined the event. A besotted Lightning kissing a stunned, unresponsive Hope. "She kissed you first. That says a lot."

"I just wish that she didn't blame herself for what happened to me. It's a hurdle that I'm not sure our relationship can climb."

"Why haven't you told her?" The question slipped from Zalera automatically, before she could quest upon the thought herself. It seemed easy in theory. Share your experiences, your thoughts, let the truth simmer. But Zalera couldn't imagine having to tell Yeul. Providing her with those images, projecting her own helplessness. Seeing Yeul after that would be like having to constantly face her own shame.

Zalera had already hidden so much…

"I can't, Z. I can't face it all again."

"But that's not all, is it? It's Lightning, isn't it? You don't want her to feel worse than she already does. To blame herself more."

Hope's eyes shot open.

"I've been in your shoes." Zalera walked towards the nearest bookcase, her hand sweeping over the wood. Dust streaked her fingers with a dirty gray. "It was the same with Yeul and her original guardian. She didn't need to know the gory details of what happened to him. She blamed herself already." Zalera then turned toward him, a book in hand that she flipped through. "I can understand Lightning, though. If I hadn't seen what happened to Yeul... If I didn't know. I would have felt just like her."

"I wanted to protect her." He fisted his hand on his desk, the fabric of his glove crackling with the force of his conviction. "For once... I wanted to protect her and not the other way around. But it seems that no matter what I do, she always ends up hurt."

"She may be hurt, but at least she has you." Zalera slammed her book shut, drawing his attention. She set the book aside in favor of going to Hope and putting her hand over his gloved fist. His anger gentled. "Yeul's death broke me, shattered me. I'm irreparable. But you two still have each other. You get to fix each other, in the ways that only the two of you can."

* * *

It was funny. Kind of. Sort of. That she preferred this to talking out her feelings. She much preferred the brutal clash of fists meeting skin, muscles tightening, straining, snapping, exertion crashing her breaths like waves, and the satisfactory sound as an opponent began to wheeze under her pressure. It sung of familiarity, knowing. She knew the limits of her body, when to push, when to give. She could gauge an opponent in battle, predict movements, recalculate when those predictions proved untrue.

There was always an ending in a fight. A goal to be achieved. Here she could win with some sweat and bruises. There was no time for emotion, only instinct.

Lightning grunted as she went in for an attack, a heavy swing headed for Rygdea's weaker side. The wooden sword caught his heel as he leapt away. He swung back mid-air. It hit her shoulder, a brief flare of pain that went ignored as she parried his swing before back flipping out of his reach.

A tired smirk formed on Rygdea's lips before he stood and launched towards Lightning. Their swords clacked together as she held his attack back, the wood groaning with the force. It turned into a battle of strength and will. Who would back down first? Lightning took a step forward, straining to shove her body's weight into her sword, hoping to throw him off balance. Just as bull-headed, Rygdea took another step, too. He shifted his weight, throwing it back onto Lightning. Her boots hissed against the mats as she was pushed back one foot, two, but she held strong. Minutes passed of them staring each other down. Back and forth they went, shoving each other until sweat pooled between eyebrows and shoulder blades. Lightning could feel her muscles begging for release.

Lightning's boot screeched in a slide, and Lightning cursed the sweat that she stepped into. Her boot was losing traction, lowering her body towards the ground, her knee hovering dangerously over the mat. She held her ground, watching Rygdea. If he kept pushing her like this, she would slip and lose. Rygdea would have a surefire win. But he wasn't going to do that. She could see it in his face. He was watching her descent, calculating where to swing in order to knock her out quicker. His impatience would cost him.

Rygdea took the chance, easing up off of their interlocked hold to swing low and deal the finishing blow. It wasn't low enough. As soon as Rygdea's weapon left hers, Lightning ducked under his swing and bounced up to deal her own attack. She lunged forward, sweeping Rygdea off of his feet with her blade.

Rygdea's body slammed down onto the floor, his arm flopping to the side as he lost the grip on his weapon. He didn't move, didn't breathe, just stared up at the ceiling as if his brain had yet to connect with his body's position. Then he heaved in air through his lungs, coughing. "Okay…" his scratchy voice puffed out, "I surrender." He rolled off of his side, holding his shoulder.

"It was a good fight," Lightning said, kicking his sword. It spun toward him, until he stopped it with his boot.

"Can't argue with that."

"I figured you would still be angry with me."

"Nah," Rygdea shook his head, bending down to pick up his sword with a groan, "I was never mad at you. Just this… situation. Your curiosity is normal."

"Then why does everyone treat it like it's something monstrous? Like _I'm_ the monster for wanting to know."

Rygdea looked at her and Lightning got a hint of something off of him. The tick in his jaw, the subdued resentment in his eyes. Not anger. Not disapproval. Envy? Rygdea looked at her like he envied her. For what? Not knowing?

_Does…_

_Does Rygdea regret finding out what happened to Hope?_

"Leave it alone. That's my advice. Hope is here now. Why dwell on the past? Dwelling… If I dwelled on what happened to the people that I've lost…" He held up his sword, aimed it at the wall like he was eyeing an opponent. But there wasn't one. It was just a wall paneled with padding. "I wouldn't be able to keep moving forward."

"Surprising."

"What?"

"How wise that sounded. Guess wisdom really does come with old age," Lightning said with a lop-sided grin.

"Hey, now. I ain't-" Rygdea's face contorted with pain, and he dropped his sword to hold the shoulder that he had landed on. He laughed. "Maybe I am getting old."

"We all are." Lightning turned, looked at herself in the glass of the control panel. She was the same age as she was when this all started. The purge. The fall. Her awakening. Yet she could feel years weighing down her body. Plummeting her heart.

"This is about Hope," Rygdea asked in an achy whisper, unpinning his hair as he shook it out, "ain't it?"

Lightning's jaw tightened. "I don't know what you mean." She swiped the sweaty tendrils of hair from her face as she walked toward the exit.

"Don't give me any of that. You're here training when you'd usually be on Hope's detail. And you're an exceptional fighter, I'll give ya that, but there was some serious strength in those swings. You're angry about something. You two have a fight? Is he, ah… He still stonewalling?"

"My reasons for taking a day off and for how I spend them are none of your business."

"Hope is my business. If his guard can't handle her emotions like an adult, then maybe I ought to talk to Amodar about a new assignment."

Lightning stopped in her stead. She pivoted on her heel, heaving a glare his way. "You wouldn't dare."

"Then talk to me. For maker's sake, you've got to talk to someone! Swinging around your anger all day isn't going to get you anywhere."

"How the hell do you know?!"

"You have to learn to own your feelings."

Lightning clenched her jaw tighter until she could hear the squeak of enamel grating. She should walk out. Storm out. _No._ "I'm so sick of people telling me what to do. You aren't me. Don't act like you know how my insides work. I'm not some clock that can be wound up to display the time of your day or anyone else's! I. don't. know. how. I. feel! So how am I supposed to communicate that? Huh?! How do I own something that I don't know? It's easier to…"

Rygdea's body sagged, and he chuckled under his breath. He held his practice sword in his hands, strangling the wood in his grip. "I used to do the same. I'm known for my outbursts now, but I used to clam myself up, too. I got tired of holding my voice in. Of living like nothing mattered except for my goals. I didn't want to be a ghost in the lives of others. Someone who was there, but is barely remembered. I happen to like who I am now. I get to be heard. I get to feel my feelings and share them with other people."

"Good for you."

"Wow. Even for you that was harsh."

"Hope and I are thinking on something. We agreed to give each other some space." Lightning rolled her own shoulder, checking for the bruise that was sure to blacken like rotten fruit. "There. You happy?"

"You?" Rygdea scoffed. "You agreed to give Hope space? The woman who swore to guard Hope with every breath in her body? That doesn't pass the smell test."

"I guess you need to get yourself a new nose then."

"Nope." He got in her face, grin wide. "I don't buy any of it. What I would buy is if you two got into an argument. But, no, he would immediately follow you and fix it. Seeing as he's not here, that's a no." Rygdea stroked his chin, grin turning devilish. "So… the opposite? Did you two get… cuddly?"

"Does everyone know about his affection for me?" Lightning sunk down onto the bench and shoved his giant, grinning mug back.

"Don't blame the kid, he's got it bad. You and I both know that he couldn't hide his feelings if he tried. An open book, as always. But you... I was kind of worried that you wouldn't feel the same... or want to. Looks like I sweated for nothing." His smirk grew as he knelt beside her, nudging her beat up shoulder with his. "So..." He waggled his eyebrows, enjoying Lightning's discomfort. "You can't not tell me. I'm on the edge of my seat here."

Lightning sneered at him. "Remind me again why this is any of your business?"

"Fine. You don't have to talk to me. I'm not offended. But you should talk it out with someone. Even just bouncing your thoughts off of a wall is better than this." Rygdea tossed his sword to the side. It hit the wall, bounced its way to stillness on the ground.

Lightning had tried to think this through, talking out her thoughts to her empty living room. Her wall, her lamp, her couch, none of it brought her any closer to a conclusion. Her mind was left in a stunned, stuttering mess.

_So maybe…_

"I'm making my decision."

_Rygdea isn't a bad person. He has to be more preferable to a wall._

"What decision?"

"On dating him or not."

" _Here_? You're making that decision while training? I mean, ehem, I thought you would have flat out rejected him. That's… Damn… Did he at least make a good case?"

She had to admit, he kind of did. It brought a small smile to her lips, until she remembered that Rygdea was staring at her. "He told me that he loved me."

Rygdea whistled. "Man, that kid doesn't hold anything back. Shouldn't have expected anything less, though. He is crazy about you. Has been for years."

"How have I been so oblivious to it, then?"

"In your defense, you have missed out on five years of his life. If I'm correct, it was probably within those five years that he came to realize his feelings. It just grew from there."

Leaning her head in her palm, she stared at the floor, taking in every scuff mark, the trails of their sweat. The battle felt less like she had been fighting Rygdea, and more like she had been fighting herself. She still was. "Yeah, he did say something along those lines. But how did you pick up on it?"

"There was one night... Bartholomew called me. He was concerned about Hope. He said that his son hadn't come home for dinner, but that he called and said he was fine. Hope said that he just wanted some fresh air and time alone. But there was something in the kid's tone that alarmed Bartholomew. He asked me if I knew if there was anything bothering Hope or if I knew where to find him. I said that I didn't, but I offered to look. After about an hour of hunting around his usual spots and checking with his friends, I stopped and did some thinking. It took me a bit before I remembered something that Hope had said earlier that week. Something about a certain soldier's birthday being that very day. I knew then right where he was. He was in the stasis room... with his Light." Standing, Rygdea put his hand on her shoulder before she looked up at him. "And he was there that day every year after that."

Rygdea left like that was the last fragment that she needed, the final shard to create a window into Hope's heart. Lightning didn't understand how that information changed anything. He sat with her on her birthday. Big deal.

_"So you became a soldier," Sazh shot back, "Big deal."_

It wasn't what Hope was doing, but _why_ he was doing it. Who he was doing it for. It showed Hope's care, his compassion, his devotion. Lightning felt so stupid for not understanding Sazh before. At every turn, Hope was there for her. Even when she was a crystal, Hope watched out for her, worked to help her, stayed by her side.

_You really do love me, don't you?_

Was that all that love was? Was that all that it entailed? Was it that simple?

Serah had asked her a question one day. _'Do you think you'd be happier if you found love, Sis?'_

At the time, the question seemed so stupid, so pointless. It ticked Lightning off. She didn't know why until she thought of Serah and Snow together. Her sister was happier. She found love, or so Serah had thought. That had been the root of Lightning's anger as she sharply replied, _'Love and happiness are a joke.'_ Her sister had been too young, too naïve. She couldn't know what love was.

Love was hard. It hurt. Love was losing everything in an instant. Love was waking to find out that her father died, that she would have to live her life without him. Love was watching paramedics perform CPR on her mother's chest. Love was holding her delirious mother back from her sister so she wouldn't claw her eyes out. Love was laying a rose on a grave, whispering a sobbed 'I love you' and getting silence in return. Love was enrolling in the army so she could put food on the table. Love was coming home to an empty house more and more often as her sister spent time with her boyfriend. Love was watching her sister be swallowed up in crystal, and never knowing when she would wake.

Lightning had enough of love. She couldn't bear any more of the pain. The loss. What was the point if she always ended up alone?

Her heart didn't listen to her mind. It still beat after Hope, fluttering in her chest as she thought of him. Hope stayed by her through everything. He laughed with her, cried with her. That was the sum of it, wasn't it? When Lightning thought back to Serah and Snow, or even farther back, to her mother and father, that was all it was. Laughing together, crying together. Nothing special. You spend the precious time that you have with the person you care for. You don't think about the end. You just live. Together.

_"It's a lot to get your head around. I know. This kind of thing… it always is. But I want you to know that no matter what reason you come up with for denying your feelings, know that it will never be that he doesn't care for you."_

After battling with herself for nearly an entire day, she'd had enough. _This decision shouldn't be this hard. If I really loved him, wouldn't it be automatic? Wouldn't I know that I love him? The fact that I have to decide should be answer enough._ Lightning slammed her hands down on her thighs and stood. She nodded her answer to herself.

It was for the best. For the both of them.

* * *

Zalera slipped into the shower, leaving Hope with a, "Take a nap or something, okay? Let this end as a peaceful babysitting job, please."

"You think it will be ending so soon?"

"What? Miss me already?"

Hope stood in the library, fingers skimming over the spines of his father's collection of books. Years of knowledge and imagination were captured in their tiny bodies. Hope had once wanted to be a sponge, capable of soaking up all of that information to keep for himself. It certainly would have made studying for tests easier. He didn't think about what he would do after he gorged himself on all of that knowledge. He knew what he would do now. Share it with the world. Use it to create a better one. Help people understand the mistakes of their past and lead them to solutions for the future.

A lofty goal. And Hope was no sponge, his knowledge limited by a fallible, human brain. But he still aspired to do it. All of it. As the director of the Academy. As a researcher. As a l'Cie. As a human being.

_I hope to have Lighting by my side for all of it._

_Is that… selfish of me?_

_What if that's not the life that she wants?_

_What if I'm not what she wants…?_

A kiss was one thing. A blissful, marvelous thing that Hope would cherish. But… Hope wanted so much more than just a one time, rocket fire of a kiss or a moment like an eternity in her kitchen.

Yet, he would take anything that she was willing to give. Anything. He would give her only what she wanted, and hold the rest deep within himself.

A _thump_ sounded from behind him and Hope swiveled around from the shelves. "Hello?" Hope poked his head out into the hall, eyes bouncing around the space. "Z, you out already?" No one answered. Hope shrugged it off, was ready to turn back to his musings with his books, when he noticed the light on in his father's study.

 _My study. It's_ my _study now._

Hope entered to find a book on the floor, left suspiciously in the center of the room. Hope paused, glancing every which way to find no one. Not a soul. "Maybe… it wasn't the book?" Hope theorized, walking his way toward it. He slid it into his hand, felt its cold weight. "Could it have already been here and something else-"

The door behind him slammed shut.

He dropped the book with a shout.

Hope could feel it. Something was there. Something behind him. Sharp, silvery eyes. Hope was going to turn around. He needed to turn around. He stayed frozen, like he was still trapped, bound and restricted. She still had a hold on him. After all this time.

_Castea is dead. Castea is-_

"Hello, Hope," spoke a voice. That elegant, yet scornful voice. A charming cadence encasing vicious words.

Hope couldn't breathe. He couldn't swallow. Couldn't blink. He turned to face the woman of his nightmares. Death had not changed her, it seemed. She had the pale, ashen skin of a ghost, but her eyes were vibrant with life. Cloaked in white, her bloodstains were gone. Hope left her in the ark like a discarded, broken doll. She stood in front of him like it had been a dream. Or perhaps this was the dream.

Was he sleeping?

Was his mind playing tricks on him again?

_I can't do this. I can't do this. Please not again. Wake up. Wake up, dammit!_

Faintly, he could hear Zalera's call. She was yelling for him. Wasn't she next to him? Screaming. Crying out in agony. Were they still in that ark? Had it all been a lie?

A chuckle bubbled up from Castea. "What's wrong, love? Not afraid of ghosts, are we?" Even her dissecting stare hadn't changed. She looked at him like she could see through him, piercing into his thoughts, his heart, down into the hollows of his soul.

"No, you aren't real." Hope squeezed his eyes shut. He tried to do what the doctors had taught him. Focus on your breaths. Count to ten. Hold an item in your hand and study it, pick it apart. Envision yourself in a peaceful place, think serene, calm.

The motion of waves as they rocked.

The tender, tinkling sound of wind chimes in the breeze.

Blades of grass poking his back as he laid in the sun.

He couldn't do it. Nothing calmed the storm rampaging in his chest. He couldn't hold onto any of the techniques, his doctors' teachings slipping through his hands faster than water. He was growing frantic, hysterical, he could feel himself bloating up, a balloon that would pop if he didn't let the air out.

_I can't keep doing this. I'm hurting the people around me by acting this way. I have to be strong. For Academia. For Light._

"You can't be real," Hope said, adamant as he stared Castea down, exorcising the woman from his mind. "You're dead."

"Please. Death can't touch me." Her gray eyes bore into his, her smile widening, teeth sharp, a wolf ready to dine on his fear like flesh.

_"Hope! Answer me, Hope!"_

There was Zalera again. He could hear her calling. But he couldn't see her. She wasn't with him. Where was she? Why wasn't he yelling back to her?

Castea held Hope there, sealing him in his spot and it was like she had snatched out his voice with his courage.

Pounding sounded out from the door, and Hope woke to his surroundings. He was in his study. In his home. Zalera was in the hallway. She was calling for him, beating on the door. This was real.

Castea… was real. Hope didn't let another second pass. Electrified energy spun to the tips of his fingers and he sent out a thundara that rippled its way toward Castea. She didn't move. The thundara crackled its life out against the barrier of a protect spell.

Castea's wolfish grin broadened. "You're strong, Hope. And getting stronger. But you're still not powerful enough to take me on, kid." With a flick of her wrist, she sent a firaga toward Hope. A ball of fire like a comet barreled towards him. Hope cast a shell, but it was weak, half-formed. The fire felt like it was engulfing him, swallowing him up in its burning tendrils as it exploded around him.

He flew back into a display case and fell to the ground, shards of glass raining down around him. His father's awards and framed certificates tumbled down onto Hope's body. The room spun, awash with growing dark spots like mold as it festered in his vision. Castea's cackles danced around him, mocking him.

Hope wondered, in his last moment of consciousness, where he would wake up this time.


	16. Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A revival, a warning, and the beginning of something new.

He made it out. He scratched and clawed and ripped himself out to the surface. Found freedom. Home. Happiness. He could see Cocoon again, the future a clear vision in its crystal glow. He took back his fate from the clutches of a new puppet master. He was his own person. His future, his destiny was his to decide.

So how did he get here?

Why was he still bound by the webs of an unknown predator?

Numbness eclipsed Hope. He felt like he was laying on a cloud, cloaked in mist, moving by the will of another.

He didn't know his destination.

"Remember your destiny, Hope. You won't escape it. Not if I have anything to say about it."

Why couldn't his steps ever be his own?

* * *

Something like an explosion rocked the house and Zalera fell forward into the door, knocking her chin against the wood before she tried to settle her ear against it. "Hope?" she asked, tentatively. When there was no answer yet again, she banged her fist against the door, followed by her elbow, her foot, her body. Hope's other guards were stampeding their way up the stairs. Too slow. Too long. Zalera drew up her chakram, was going to chop her way in if she had to because Hope wasn't answering and he couldn't be dead and who was he talking to and god damn her for being stupid enough to take a shower, but the door creaked open.

As if it was never locked.

Zalera flew inside, stumbling in through the _damn door_ to find Hope beneath a pile in the corner, the room otherwise unoccupied. "What…?" Zalera's voice caught. His body was smoking, the area blackened and burned. She dropped her chakram, zooming to Hope's side and unburying him from the rubble that she assumed had once decorated the newly decimated display case's shelves. She patted out a flame eating at his pant leg, cursing herself as her nose caught the scent of burnt flesh. "Hope? Hope, you with me?"

_I'm just glad you're still here. Still breathing. But…_

_Who were you talking to?_

_Who did this to you?_

The other guards were scrambling in behind her. Calling for a med team and back up. Checking the perimeter and the house for attackers. Useless. All useless flailing because even she could tell that the intruder was long gone.

When Hope was free of the debris, Zalera put a hand on his back to shake him. She flinched back at a pinprick of pain. Shards of glass peppered his back, blood blotting through the fabric. One particularly large piece stuck out of his shoulder blade like the bone of a broken wing. She couldn't turn him over with that glass in his back, but she could see the burns on his face, the red, peeling skin and his singed hair. She needed to dress his wounds.

"Who did this?"

_Isn't there only one answer to that question?_

"Castea," Zalera growled. She took hold of her chakram and stood up, staring at the ceiling, the walls, spinning around to find some hint of her because Zalera knew. This was the work of one woman. A monster. "Get back here and face me! I'm right here! What's the matter? You afraid? The big bad l'Cie can only take on kids?!"

"I'mno… kid…"

"Hope." Zalera dropped back down. Another guard crouched down beside Hope, but Zalera shoved him out of her way.

"I… mmnn… ot a…"

"What? What is it, Hope?"

Hope hissed as he moved, attempting to turn onto his side. His foot kicked out, sending a golden figure spinning into the wall. "I am… NOT a kid."

Zalera would have laughed if it weren't for the sight of his face. The skin was burned to a raw, meaty red, the muscles of his cheek visible and spasming. How Hope was able to speak through the pain… _We've had practice, I suppose._

Hope shifted his weight onto his forearms before buckling back down to the ground.

"Hey. Don't move. Don't talk. Don't… Don't even think. Just breathe for me. Okay?"

"Th… Th-That bad… huh?"

She could see how the burns scorched deep into the skin of his neck and up to his hairline, burning the hair around his ear to a crisp. As for the rest of him… "Just breathe…" The damage seemed to be restricted to one side of his body, but whatever he had been hit with burned hot and strong. The clothes that had survived the fire were left melted into his skin, the material fused into his burns. Even with his healing abilities, that was going to hurt.

Hope raised his uninjured hand to his face.

"I said just-"

Green radiated from his hand. His facial burns melted away, new skin webbing over the damage. Hope heaved a breath, almost gagging and Zalera watched with morbid fascination as the giant shard of glass lurched in his back before smoothly gliding out and slipping to the floor with a delicate tinkling sound that betrayed its lethality.

_Good. That's out. But next is…_

Zalera moved, ripping Hope's glove off of his hand and holding it in front of his mouth. "Open. The rest is going to royally suck."

Hope swallowed, but did as he was told. He began healing again and it was four breaths in when he inhaled sharply and cried out around the glove between his teeth. With excruciating slowness, the material of his uniform began to pop out of his wounds. The metal of a button sprang out, launching into the wall like a bullet. There was a squelch sound, and the top of his pouch slipped out of his side, the tip of one of the tools it contained following.

Hope breathed when it was over. Harsh, ragged pants shook his body. Zalera blinked, shuddering because for as mesmerizing as the healing process was, it was also incredibly disgusting. Other guards stood around the room, staring. One guard was staring at the button hole in the wall with a mixture of relief and terror.

"Don't you have jobs to do?" Zalera found herself yelling. She hated the staring. The judgement. "You're all lucky that he can do that or you would have a dead director and no _jobs_ , you lazy ass holes!"

"Zalera," Hope protested weakly. "Don't call them that. They did fine. You all…" Hope heaved himself into a sitting position. It didn't hold as he fell over into Zalera. "You did fine. I'm alive, right?"

"How have you made it to the age of nineteen?"

"…"

"No wonder firefly has such a complex."

"Zalera?"

" _Yeah_?" she said through a put-out sigh wrapped in fondness.

"This isn't a dream, right?"

"…Right."

"I'm not going to wake up back in the ark?"

Zalera could feel her breath halt in her body, before she let it all out. "You're home, Hope. Right where you're going to stay."

Hope laughed. "I kind of wish it was a dream…"

"Hope?"

"Yeah?"

"This was Castea, wasn't it? She's alive."

Hope's silence was telling. She could hear it over the incoming sirens. The other guards drained out of the room. She heard one of them head off a medic on their way up. It was a gruff whisper, but she could still hear,

"…used some freaky healing shit and… gone. What a mon-"

She felt Hope's nod.

Zalera settled herself closer to Hope, held his head in the curve of her neck. Her fingers travelled over the crisp ends of the hair around his ear. "If she's still alive and after you, then she came back for one thing."

"To finish what she started."

* * *

Castea walked into the room, her steps lighter than they'd been in days. Purpose sat on her shoulders. It grew as she visited Hope, expanding every time she watched him from afar, toyed with his thoughts and whispered in his ears. He was a thorn in her side, a weakling with the future in his pathetic hands. For as much as she loathed his supposed 'potential,' she couldn't deny that he was the tool that would lead her to her future.

She looked down at her hands, still felt the combustion of fire as it lifted from her palms. Potent her magic had been, but Hope didn't deserve the crystal power if a firaja was enough to snuff him out. A warning was what she was sent to give, and what a warning it was. A shove in the right direction.

"How did it go?" Barsilisk asked. He stood at the entrance, expression placid.

Castea flashed him a pleased smile. "I hear we've been requested."

"It's never a request."

The two strode in deeper into the domain of their master, the home of their fal'Cie. Their steps echoed in the cavernous deep. The golden glow of crystal lit the walls along the way. Intricate carvings surrounded them, rough accounts of Pulsian history about the fire, death and destruction dealt by the powerful creature ahead of them. Their fal'Cie was a feared nightmare to the Pulsian populace, and Castea was proud to share a part of his terrifying history. She held a modicum of his power, had been trained by his hands. It was like staring up at her own lineage, knowing that one day she would inherit all that was his as his most devoted pupil.

The doors before them opened to a grand chamber. It smelled of death and rot. Orbs that stood like torches flickered to life, holding a purplish glow shaped like eyes peering through the glass. Skeletal remains were left strewn across the halls, bodies of previous adversaries left to decay and intimidate any incoming intruders. A colossal throne was carved into the far wall. A statue of a warrior sat upon it, its battle armor heavy and thick. Horns the size of adamantoise tusks protruded from its helmet. One hand gripped a scythe that stood at its side, the other resting on the arm of the throne. Two purple eyes glowed beneath the helmet.

"What is it that you require?" Castea asked as she and Barsilisk bowed before their master. _Her_ master. Barsilisk had never acknowledged their fal'Cie with anything near that sort of sentiment or devotion.

A deep voice bellowed throughout the room, seeming to respond from nowhere and everywhere at once. "The boy. You have instilled fear within him. I can sense that. But will he kneel to such fear? The crystals beg for release."

"If you would have let me retrieve him, we could have forced-"

"He needs to seek them for himself. The will of the holder is crucial."

"His will?" Castea's head rose, and she stared up into pools of purple. "We need not ask permission. He is an instrument to be utilized, nothing more. I would gladly take-"

"Enough!" the fal'Cie bellowed, low and rumbling in a way that shook the skeletal remains. Castea snapped her mouth shut. "Watch yourself, child."

Castea hastily nodded, apology quick on her lips.

"We shall see what the results of your visit yields. If he does not begin to understand the urgency in obtaining the crystal shards, we shall resort to other methods. Perhaps our remaining captives shall do…"

* * *

_One day. I'm gone for one day and this happens._

"I don't give two fucks what's going on in that room, I want to see him!" Lightning held up a fist, ready to pummel the guard standing in her way of getting to Hope. _He was attacked and immediately whisked away into a meeting room? Why isn't he in the hospital? In a secure ward? Locked tight with five thousand men guarding the door? Why-_

Why wasn't she ever there for him when it mattered?

"Lightning," Hope hissed as the door creaked open. He flashed an apologetic grin into the room before closing it quietly behind him. "That is only a meeting with Academia's highest officials in there."

"I could care less about the big wigs in that office right now. The upper crust of this city can eat my ass for all I care."

Hope put a finger to his lips, gently nudging her away from the room.

"Don't you dare manhandle me, Hope." Lightning moved to knock his hand away, but grasped at it instead. "You were _attacked_."

Hope's expression flickered at the handhold. "Yes. That is what we were discussing."

"Discussing," Lightning repeated, annoyed and incensed and topped off with disbelief. She used the handhold to pull him in closer, jerking him forward so she could inspect the damage.

"There's nothing to see." Hope pulled himself away with a breathy laugh. As if any of this was somehow funny. "I healed it already. I'm fine, okay?"

Lightning held herself back, crossing her arms to keep herself from knocking the idiocy out of him. "You're missing half an eyebrow."

"Yeah…" Hope wiped a self-conscious finger over the hairless skin, "that's unfortunate."

"You're shaking."

Hope stopped, eyes wide, and looked down at his hands. "Oh."

Lightning clicked her tongue at the flood of affection she felt. He was ridiculous. Using a wide smile to reassure everyone around him, always trying to make everyone else feel safe, secure, comfortable. Even when he was scared and shaking. "You were attacked, Hope. That's not something to take lightly."

"I'm not," Hope said, his voice scratchy like he was holding everything in. She supposed that that was expected of a director in order to assure his city and its populace. But Lightning wasn't just another civilian. "Trust me, I'm not."

Lightning reached for him.

There was a forced cough from behind Hope.

Lightning dropped her hand, looking to find Zalera standing behind Hope, the room's occupants filing out behind her. Lightning received looks ranging from disconcerted to offended to contemptuous. She matched each one with a bland, unaffected look in return.

"Best watch yourself." Lightning spun around to find Rygdea as he approached, his steps followed by Sazh and Harleen. "Could hear your complaints echoing through the halls," Rygdea whispered, patting her elbow as he passed by. "Hope, let's get this over with and get you resting, yeah?"

"Another meeting?" Lightning found herself shouting, before she toned herself down. "More egotistical assholes want to get their say in?"

"This one is more for me, Light." Hope smiled, but it was tight, pleading.

"Now that the room has _cleared_ ," Amodar stated with a pointed look darting toward Lightning, "we can shed our ties and have a more unofficial look at things."

Lightning ducked her head down. For as much as she didn't need approval from the high and mighty board, she still didn't like being scolded by a man that had once been her guardian. "Sorry," she said with a bow before following Hope into the room.

It was well into the night, but there they all were. Amodar, Hope, Lightning, Zalera, Sazh, Rygdea, Hildough, and Harleen stood and sat in different areas of the room. Hope still had a tremble to him, something he masked with the twittering of his fingers. Lightning stared hard at Zalera, biting her tongue. What she couldn't say in words _yet_ , she shouted with her eyes. Zalera should have protected him. She should have taken the brunt of his attack as his guard.

"Castea's back," Hope croaked, filling in those that hadn't been included in the last meeting.

Lightning's stomach lurched. She had imagined another attempt from the Sanctum. A civilian from Academia unhappy with their director's new l'Cie status. At worst, another l'Cie flunky from Castea's fal'Cie's faction.

But… _Her?_

_The woman that holds such power over Hope even now? The one that took him, strapped him down and watched as he was ripped apart?_

Hope recounted his attack. The minute he finished, everyone began speaking at once, the room in an understandable uproar. Lightning stood close to Hope through all of it, her fingers rubbing over the back of his hand, her touch discreet, but meant to reassure. The voices stampeded over each other, words built from concern and anger and incredulity and confusion. Somehow, Harleen managed to make his voice stand out above them all.

"I've heard the rumors. This kid's head's been messed up since he got back. How do we know that _this_ Castea wasn't just a part of his imagination? How do we know that he didn't-"

"Burn himself?!" Lightning snarled. "How could you even-"

Hope held up a hand, a look of indifference capturing his visage. "It's all right, Light. Nothing anyone says or does can ever change your mind, right, Harleen?" Sazh came up beside him and squeezed his shoulders, but Hope shook him off.

Harleen scowled as he straightened his posture, superiority in the stretch of his spine. "Watch how you talk to me, boy."

"Why? You gonna smack me around like you do your own son?"

Harleen stepped forward threateningly, but before he could make any moves both Zalera and Lightning snapped at him, a simultaneous, "Try it!" coming from them as they gripped their weapons.

Rygdea slammed his hand down on the meeting room table, regaining control of the room. "Y'all need to shut up. This isn't going to turn into some brawl. That is the last thing we need in the face of this." He ran a hand through his hair that already looked straggled from the habitual gesture of stress. "Let's figure out how she could still be alive."

"The Ark collapsed, right?" Amodar asked as he took a seat, his fingers rubbing his brow. "We sent a Cavalry team to do a thorough scope of the area. There was nothing left. The Eighth Ark caved in." Rygdea nodded in confirmation. "But let's say there was a way out. Maybe she didn't die and found a way through somehow." He turned toward Zalera and Hope, his words careful. "Were there any other exits besides the main one that you escaped through?"

"We wouldn't know." Zalera said, tone souring as she balked at the question. "We were prisoners! It's not like we were given a tour of the place!"

"No need to get snarky," Harleen replied. "It was just a question."

"Snarky? You little- Why are you even here? Why do get to know about-"

"Me?" Harleen pointed an accusatory finger toward her. "Why are _you_ here? You're one of them. You're a _Pulsian_. You don't belong here."

Lightning could feel the rage emanating off of Zalera, and though Lightning was peeved at the woman for her mishandling of Hope's detail, she could understand wanting to rip the man's head off. Zalera looked ready to, her hand gripping her chakram with titanic-force.

"I think you need to calm down, Harleen," Hildough tried.

But the man proceeded regardless. "This girl is a stranger. For all we know, she could be working with them. Estheim was attacked on her watch, wasn't he? She could be a spy! Why should we trust this barbaric Pulsian?"

The Pulsian in question nearly jumped over the table to throttle the man, but was caught by Rygdea as he spoke. "Get out, Burien. If you are gonna spew your crap then-"

"How dare you," Zalera spat, her entire body quaking with rage. "'One of them', my ass. You have no idea what I've been through." Rygdea was struggling to hold the woman back and Harleen's sharp reply didn't help.

"Oh, yeah? Tell us more of your sob story, sweetheart."

_That's it._

Lightning moved. She dodged around Hildough to get to Harleen's side before anyone could think to stop her. She swung her blade up, holding it beneath his chin, the sharp edge inches from the apple of his throat. "Say one more word. I dare you." Her eyes challenged his startled ones and he gulped. Harleen backed away and left the room, leaving a trail of disgruntled murmurs behind him.

"Okay." Rygdea released his hold on Zalera, her glaring at him as she shook herself off and stepped away. "Now, let's just focus, shall we? She's alive. We'll consider _how_ later. Let's focus on _why_ she's back. You two think that it's because of the crystals?"

Hope nodded while Zalera muttered, "Undoubtedly."

"So what do we do, then?" Amodar looked to Hope. "As I understand it, getting the crystals together would be as dangerous as constructing a world-obliterating bomb for the l'Cie, but what will they do if we don't follow orders? I'm sure it'll only get progressively worse as we ignore them."

"If we get the crystals," Rygdea asked as he leaned against the wall, "can we destroy them."

Zalera shook her head with a puckered expression before growling in the man's direction. "Are you insane? We aren't even sure how to put them together or if Hope can control it. Who knows if these god-created shards can be destroyed."

"Z, please take it down a notch." Hope shot her a look until she turned her fiery gaze to the floor. "They're only trying to find the best solution to this."

"No, Hope. How can you expect me to be quiet and calm? How are you?"

The room's occupants all fell into an uncomfortable silence. Lightning glanced at Hope's hands that were balled agonizingly tight and at how Zalera's body still shook with rage. Lightning knew that this affected them deeply and understood their opposition toward the crystal mission, but she wasn't going to let those monsters continue to torment Hope. "Tch, maybe we should try." She received a few stunned glances, but her focus was on Hope. "You can do this. I know you c-"

"We can't," Hope said sternly.

Her arms fell to her sides as confusion descended upon her brow. "Hope, they'll keep coming after you."

"It's me... or the rest of the world, Light. I have no choice."

* * *

The meeting finished out relatively quickly after that. Lightning felt her anger ebb and flow inside of her. Lava. Magma. Flowing and bursting. It was like there was this enormous pressure building up inside. There was no lid to contain it. No cover to hold it.

She was supposed to have time. To think. To process. Everything in their lives pushed them harder, time hastening until the world was on their backs. Time was never on their sides.

Hope was being pursued. He was in danger.

She could have lost him this time.

Words and intentions lost before she had a chance to find them.

The group trickled out of the room until there was only her and Hope and Zalera. Lightning couldn't look at the woman. Zalera's body was unmarred. She carried nothing of this incident on her and it wasn't right.

"Look," Zalera began, rubbing her arm as she stared at the door, "I'm going to-"

"What?" Lightning snapped. "What are you going to do, Zalera? You said you would protect him. You should have had half of your face burned off, not him!"

Zalera spun toward Lightning, body rigid, face contorted, her hair whipping hard enough that the beads clacked together.

"Back off." Hope spoke first. "She did what she could."

"If she'd done what she could, you wouldn't have been hurt. I-"

"It would have happened if you had been watching me too, Lightning."

Lightning knew that. It was easier to heave the blame onto Zalera. The one who was there. The one who had accepted the responsibility when Lightning shucked it away. Lightning didn't have a leg to stand on in this argument, but the resentment boiled inside of her.

"Castea was waiting for an opportunity. A time when all of our guards were down."

Lightning shook her head at Hope's certainty. "How do you know that she was waiting?"

"Since I've gotten back… I've been hearing her voice in my head." Hope held his voice tight in his throat. Lightning could hear the way his vocal chords seemed to collapse in around his words, making speaking hard, painful. They were being dragged out of him by sheer force of will. "I thought that it was just a part of the trauma, but it makes sense now. She's been messing with me almost since the day we escaped."

Lightning held her hand to her throat, pressing lightly like she could strangle herself for her lack of insight. Lightning had been there, right beside him, through so many nightmares, flashbacks, headaches, panic attacks. How many of them had been Castea? How many times was Hope attacked while Lightning held him and foolishly told him that it was going to be okay?

She felt stupid, powerless.

Paralyzed.

"I still don't understand," Zalera spoke up, resting a hip down on the meeting table. "She could have killed you."

Hope shrugged. "Better than nabbing me."

"If she wanted to A. announce to you that she was alive. B. intimidate you. Or C. put you back on track with her grand plan, why would she risk killing you?"

Lightning heard what the blast had done to Hope. She could see a patch of hair with blackened ends. He smelled like a beach bonfire gone wrong or the smoke after a firework crackled out its end.

"…Maybe she was testing me."

"What's to test?"

"I'm not strong enough to fight her. She made that clear. She could have been giving me a reason to bridge the gap. She wants me to get stronger in order to complete their focus?"

"I hate this," Lightning said to the floor. "Stop playing coy and fight us head on already."

"My sentiments exactly," Zalera replied.

"We would lose. That's," Hope pressed his fingers into his eyebrow, bounced them against his cheek, "the point."

Zalera swung herself back off the table, all long legs and grace and Lightning looked out the window as the Pulsian approached Hope.

"It's been a long day," Zalera said, making a clicking sound and her voice drifted farther. "I'll… leave you two to talk."

"Z?" Hope called out. "If there is anyone here who doesn't belong, it's him."

Lightning heard Zalera hum back, and then the door was closed.

Outside was a dreary scene. City lights smeared together with the runaway rain drops as they raced down the window pane. The glass was cold as she touched it, her hand leaving a frosty print behind. She could see Hope reflected behind her. He was staring at her back. His expression was as blurred as the outside.

"Sometimes I wonder if you're ever going to come back."

Lightning didn't mean to let that slip. She winced at herself, at the unchanging Hope in the window.

"I'm here." Hope walked around the table, coming up behind her and she could feel the heat of his body. Lightning briefly wondered how hot it was, being blown back by that flash of fire. She knew that heat, that panic, but she had always been shielded and healed by those hands. She felt an odd need to reciprocate. She turned around, her hand wavering as it came up to ghost around his face until Hope nuzzled down into it. "No matter how many times I'm pulled away, I'll come back. I'll always come back."

The side of Lightning's thumb brushed against the abrupt end of his eyebrow, down to slip over his eye, the curve of his nose. "This should settle it. This should give me my answer. Us getting closer… it complicates things beyond measure. I should be able to stay by you through anything. My emotions drove me from your side and I wasn't there to protect you."

Her thumb still moved, straying in the moment like those playful rain drops. Hope drew her thumb into his mouth, between his teeth, cushioning it with the pad of his tongue. His hands were on her shoulders. He had such impossibly large hands, kindness in their motions. Her thumb slipped out, drawing his saliva around his smile. "Emotions are also what lead you to care," Hope reasoned. "A guard has to care about their charge, don't they? They have to want them to live, to stay safe. They want to watch over them all of the time, stay near them, until they can't live without them."

Lightning hardened her voice. "I should say no." It was the smart decision, the logical choice. Lightning was the queen of practicality. Keeping things simple, painless. "I can't say no."

"Getting mixed signals here." Hope's chuckle was uneasy. Lightning pressed her hands against him to feel the vibrations in his chest.

"I can't ignore my feelings. We've walked too far into this for me to turn back now. I care for you. A lot. I'll see this through."

Hope rushed her with a kiss, pulling apart only to hold her close. His arms could hold her now, his strength enough to bear her weight. She had to trust that. He took her hands and held them. His eyes twinkled with delight and she could only laugh.

" _We_ will see this through."

* * *

It was the feeling of the grass that softened her, rounded out her angry, jagged edges into smooth sides like a rock that was taken out to sea and given a new shape. She could still hear that man's accusations. They scraped her raw, made her wonder if Fara wasn't right about these people. Ugly, spiteful people. Zalera rewound those thoughts, erased them into oblivion. One man did not represent the entirety of the populace, not any more than Castea represented all of Pulse. She had to shake off such ill-conceived thoughts born of ignorance and a fear of the unknown.

That was why she laid in Hope's backyard, a garden so lush and vibrant with life that it wilted her impure thoughts before they could bloom. The grass beneath her was soft, tickling her fingers as she spread them out and slid them through the blades. Zalera sought refuge inside of this place, where the open air smelled of newly sifted dirt and flowering trees hung over her head. She was still on Pulse, even if Academia felt like a planet in another solar system, it was still a part of her home. She belonged there, just like anyone else.

The slide of the door came from behind her. The hush of approaching footsteps. "Hello, Hope."

"How'd you know it was me?" Hope's face popped up in front of her as he stood over where she laid in the grass.

"You're gait. You walk with timid… _cautious_ steps. Lightning walks with purpose and confidence. Besides," Zalera shuffled herself over, patting the warm indent in the grass that signified her previous position, "I can smell your brand of angst from here."

"Gee, thanks." Hope plopped himself down. He wasted no time in taking a large whiff of the air, stretching a gloveless hand out where it could dip into the pond at their side. The water rippled around the intrusive digit, and Hope skated his finger along. The air shifted and a gust of wind rushed over them, pimpling Zalera's flesh and making Hope shiver. It roused the strands of Hope's hair, left it sticking up in the middle like chocobo floof.

Zalera laughed, sitting up to pat the spot down. She pulled her hand away when she felt charred strands. "I- ah-"

"Don't worry about it," Hope said, but she knew that he wouldn't take his own advice. He ruffled his hair back into place, patting a swoop over the crusty strands around his ear.

"I don't think I ever properly apologized for my lack of vigilance."

"You never have to."

"You shouldn't be left alone, Hope. Not with this level of a threat."

"Should I have climbed in the shower with you?" Hope grinned wide, face full of impish mischief and Zalera pushed him over.

"I don't think I'm the one that you want to be extending that invitation to."

Hope's face combusted. Zalera laughed heartily, like she hadn't in a while, while Hope stuck out sulking, pouty lips. "Yeah. Yeah. You're hilarious."

"How did things go with the firefly? Did I miss the fireworks?" His tiny, almost private smile was enough of an answer. "I did, didn't I? Congrats, Hope." Zalera swung an arm around his shoulders, yanking him into a side hug that squeezed some chuckles loose as he squirmed in her hold.

"You can't say anything. We… We're going to keep this between us for now. See where it goes from there."

Zalera side-eyed him. "That was Lightning's idea, wasn't it?" She watched as that bright expression of childish excitement dulled.

"I agreed to be… uh… accommodating?" Hope scratched the back of his head with a pinched shrug. "I don't want to push too much onto her."

"How gentlemanly of you," Zalera deadpanned.

Hope knocked his head against hers, let it rest there as he pulled his hands into his sleeves. "I don't want to be a mistake." His voice was quiet, the words splintering in a way that caused the shrapnel to tear into her heart.

"Lightning is an idiot," Zalera decided, but before Hope could stick up for her like she knew he would, she added, "but she's got good taste. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks." Hope wiped a hand over the squirm of his smile, before clearing his throat and giving her a back-to-business look. "Now, I need to ask you for a favor."

* * *

Lightning was in a sour mood. Every time someone so much as brushed against her, glanced her way, anything, she showed it with a deathly glare that had them switching to another area of the dress store.

Yeah.

She was stuck in a dress store.

A _boutique_ , Lebreau kept emphasizing.

The store clerk held up a blue dress that might as well have been fishnet wrapped in glitter, smiling with her pink glossed lips as she approached Lightning. "I could never get away with something this stunning, but with that pear figure and those legs, you have got to try this on." The woman touched her, _touched her_ , patting Lightning's thigh as she squealed, "O.M.G. I would kill for those thighs. You simply _must_ give me the deets on your workout routine."

"I kill people."

Her giggling abruptly stopped, the look on her face priceless and it almost made the whole outing worth it.

Then she snorted, smacking her gum as she draped the fishnet over her arm. "You're such a kidder. We'll have to find something to accentuate that personality. Maybe this…"

Hell. She was in hell.

"I'm going to mutilate that man."

"Now, now," Zalera said, holding a purple dress up in the light before sneering and slipping it back on the rack, "save that for the honeymoon." Lightning scowled back. "Lighten up. You're not as scary as you think you are, _Firefly_. You can let go of your weapon now."

Lightning sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she wondered how she had been finagled into this. Dragged, was more the word. She'd been dragged out of bed at the crack of dawn by a perky, bubbly Lebreau. After almost cutting the woman's head off in her grouchy state, Lightning was informed by a highly amused Zalera that the three women were going off to find dresses for Harleen's soiree occurring that night. After much squabbling and struggling, the girls managed to heave Lightning out into the hideous world of the mall. Sneering at a particularly bright, fluffy and vomit-inducing dress, she felt her leg twitch toward the door in an urge to bolt. _Or I could slice that monstrosity into a bunch of not-so-pretty bits. Yeah, no one would miss it._

"Calm down, Soldier Girl," Lebreau said as she passed. "It's not going to jump out and attack you. Although," she held her chin, staring it down, "I wouldn't put it past that dress. The way that chiffon is laid makes it look like it has teeth."

"I don't have time for this. I should be protecting H-" She was cut off by Zalera as she was spun around and pushed until she was shoved into the nearest dressing room.

"Hope is fine. He took the day off and is having some man time with Rygdea, Sazh, Maqui and Yuj."

"What men?" Lightning grumbled as dresses ranging from hideous to torturous were flung into her face.

"He'll be fine. Besides, this'll be quick and painless if you stop resisting. You'll only be wearing the thing for a few hours so shut up and pick."

"I don't do dresses. Why can't I wear my damn uniform? That's the reason I'm going. To protect him."

Zalera rolled her eyes before stomping into Lightning's dressing room and snapping the curtain shut. "You should be going as Hope's date. But since you're such a coward, you're going as his guard. To make it up to him, and me, you can at least look pretty."

"I'm still going to slaughter him for telling you."

"Whatever, Lightning. You can't wear your uniform because this shindig is designated as formal, at least that's what Lebreau said. Even the protective detail will wear tuxedos. Hey. That's an idea. Why don't you just wear a tux," suggested Zalera, snickering. "I'm sure you'll attract loads of attention then, just like you like."

Lightning stared murderously at the curtain, knowing Zalera was right. She was going to relent, but Zalera just had to keep running her mouth.

"Besides, don't you want to see the look on Hope's face when you descend his staircase, looking all delectably gorgeous? He'll want to jump you right-"

"Shut it, Zalera," Lightning shouted before lowering her tone at the quiet of the store. "You know about us. Great. Now can you zip it?"

"You know what? No. I won't zip it. I can't believe that you're acting like such a child about this. You, the big shot soldier that everyone talks about as this great and courageous being. I don't know what sap they've been licking because you look pretty fucking small from where I'm standing."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

Zalera tilted her head, regarding Lightning like she'd grown a third eye. "This man is sweet and loving and deserves a real damn relationship with the person that he loves. What does he get instead? A relationship that he has to lie about and hide as if it were so fucking surreptitious that no one would understand. Shit, how can you be so cold? He loves you, truly head-over-heels loves you and you can't man up to let others know that you share a sliver of those feelings? You act as if you're ashamed."

"Ashamed-?" Lightning shoved the pile of dresses off of her, kicking one back as it stuck to the zipper of her skirt. She squared herself up to Zalera, face to face. "You don't know me. You don't know us. Save your judgements for someone who cares."

There was a twinge of something that flexed in Zalera's cheek before she narrowed her eyes and dove back in. "You ever stop to think about how much courage it took for Hope to tell you that he loves you? That maybe he doesn't feel like he deserves you."

Lightning recoiled, stepping back. "Ridiculous," she muttered, shaking her head and asserting, "Hope deserves the world. That's… That's nonsense."

"Is it? After what we went through… I know that I feel too weak, too mutilated, too disgusting to be desired. Think about how he must feel."

Lightning's heart shrunk inside of her chest, hiding beneath her ribs like an animal crawling back in shame. This was exactly what Lightning was talking about, Hope deserved better than her. Better than this half-assed attempt, her tiptoeing into a river that was already flowing full speed. But she was trying. Didn't that count for anything?

Zalera stood her ground, hands flexing in and out of fists in a show of obvious frustration. Why did she care? What did it matter to her the intricacies of Lightning and Hope's relationship?

Zalera's words were sharp, biting down and ripping apart Lightning's defenses. "I can't believe that after everything you've been through, with all that's against you two, and with what's after him, that you would waste the precious time that you have together."

* * *

Lightning went silent through most of the trip, resigned to every dress that the store clerk thought accentuated her 'pear body,' whatever that meant. Zalera stuck to her own side of the store, their conversation closed as they pretended to be amicable after their confrontation in the dressing room. Zalera's words buzzed around inside of her head like a wasp, stinging the insides of her ears so they would swell and all she could hear were her assertions. Echoing on stereo. Was it really so wrong for her to want to keep her private affairs private? Hers and Hope's love lives were nobody else's business. They didn't need to parade it in front of the world.

Zalera said that she was acting ashamed. Was that it? Was she ashamed to be with Hope? Was she ashamed to admit her feelings to people who could misunderstand, judge their bond, and condemn them for feelings that were no longer innocent? Although her original reasons for denying Hope had been copout excuses, they had merit. Just months before, Hope had been fourteen in her eyes. He was an adolescent boy that hung on her every word. A tiny thing that called her mom in his sleep. He was nineteen now, but the thought made Lightning feel dirty.

What of him being her boss? Work relationships were known to be messy, complicated affairs. Between prioritizing work over emotion, forgiving the power dynamics, and not letting their professional and personal lives bleed into each other, it could prove to be a difficult challenge. It was a little late to worry about that, though. The feelings were there, already blending who they were to each other in every aspect of their lives.

Lightning knew what people used to call her behind her back. The Frigid Bitch. The Scarecrow. She was a ball buster to anyone who got in her way or questioned her work. She didn't hesitate to deny a come-on and then beat the guy down a peg when he wouldn't take no for an answer. She liked to scare away attention before it could manifest into attraction. Such actions left Lightning as the last person that anyone would expect a relationship from. It made her wonder if this was less about being ashamed, and more about swallowing her pride.

When the shopping was settled, Lebreau headed off in her own car. Zalera and Lightning stood on the curb, silent.

"Sorry I was so harsh back there," Zalera said, a tad stiff in her execution. Lightning couldn't tell if she was truly apologetic, or didn't want to let the silence settle.

"No. As much as I don't think that this is your business, you were right. To some extent. I guess it boils down to… lack of experience? I don't know how to be a good girlfriend." Lightning shrugged a shoulder, like it didn't royally piss her off. She toed her boot into the asphalt as if she were stomping the admission into the ground. "Saying the word feels wrong, childish. And acting that way… vulnerable in front of others…"

"Seems Hope has already mastered that, huh?"

"Talk about intimidating," Lightning mumbled, watching a couple across the street. It was like watching Serah and Snow. The girl was hanging from the guy's arm, laughing as she pulled him along. He followed after, holding on tight and beaming like an idiot.

"The sandal is on the other foot."

"If you're so knowledgeable about this relationship stuff, then what's your advice? What do I do now?"

"Easy." Zalera shoved their bagged dresses into Lightning' arms. She walked up to the edge of the curb, the tips of her boots hanging over. Her hands settled on her hips as she stood in a superman pose. "Stand on the tallest building and scream out your undying affection for your man." She heaved in a breath, putting her hands around her mouth as she yelled out, "I LOVE YOU, HOPE ESTHIEM!"

Lightning felt her eyes bug out of her head. There was a hush from the crowd around them as they stood by a fountain outside of the mall, where there were many, many, many people out enjoying the late spring weather. The looks she got from passersby were awkward to receive to say the least. Lightning thought to duck inside one of the dress bags in her arms, if it wouldn't make them look more ridiculous than they already did.

"I don't know why I expected anything different."

Zalera laughed, bending over to hold her stomach. She had a laugh that didn't fit her character, high and giggly. It was silly - the way it rolled out of her, making her body jerk uncontrollably. Irritating, when it was at Lightning's expense. "I can't imagine you doing that. Hope… Yeah, I can see him doing that." She wiped a tear from her eye, and fake as the announcement was, there was a flush of embarrassment on her cheeks.

But she did it.

"That's the point, isn't it?"

"What's the point?"

"Nothing. Take these before I toss them into traffic."

"I'm joking. Jo- _king_! You don't have to go _that_ far. Make him feel loved, cared for. Spend some time with him. Do… _coupl_ … _ley_ things with him."

"Such as?"

"What does he like to do?"

"I… don't know."

Zalera's face ran blank. She didn't say anything, but Lightning could feel her stare. And the stares of those people that had gawked at a shouting Zalera. Even the beep of the crosswalk felt intrusive, too loud and overbearing, like it was the sound of her own patience wearing thin. "You're dating and you don't know what he likes to do in his spare time?"

"What spare time? He works! He reads. He apparently gardens, but I don't know if that's a genuine hobby or if it's to help him feel closer to his mother. I… don't think he takes time for himself." Lightning's hands moved from where she had her arms crossed to where they held onto her arms, the air thinning into a chill. Or maybe that was just her imagination. "I'd like to change that."

"Have anyone you can ask?"

Lightning's eyes walked themselves up the street, down toward a very familiar path. "Unfortunately, I know just the person."

Lightning wanted to ask anyone else. Sazh, Rygdea, Maqui, Alyssa, anyone else that knew Hope. But Lightning knew that Cass was the right choice. He knew Hope before and after the fall. Hope kept everyone at arm's length now, but Cass knew him from before he did that. Cass was an obnoxious twerp, but he cared about Hope. He would want to help him if Lightning asked.

At least, she hoped so.

Plan b was to beat any details out of the kid if she had to…

"His place is just up the block. He can be a bit mouthy," Lightning warned, turning and looking at Zalera as she trekked behind. "Ignore his salacious nature and the smell and you'll be fine."

"He a friend or that cheap, flirtatious uncle that you avoid at gatherings?"

Lightning snorted. She could see Cass' future now. Should she fear for Kori's future children?

Nah.

"Somewhere in between."

The door to his apartment was ajar, and it didn't take a genius to figure out something was wrong. Lightning flicked out her weapon, glancing toward Zalera to find that she was similarly armed and alarmed, tossing their dresses over the outside railing. Lightning prodded a testing finger at the door. It swayed easily. She shouldered it open, movements slow, senses heightened. The living room was dark, dank, smelling like cheap booze and rotten food. That was a smell that Lightning was familiar with. The blinds were closed, thin threads of sunlight the only light. Lightning stepped around a pile of liquid gunk to peek further inside.

The place was trashed. Furniture upended. The television smashed in. Books torn from shelves as if a bluster of wind had shot through. Game consoles had been torn from the wall socket with one plug sputtering out sparks. The walls had deep gouges in them, crumbled drywall and splintered wood littering the carpet. Food and broken plates and open beer cans were strewn under foot.

Lightning's first instinct was to split up and check the rest of the apartment. She had to check if Cass was present and alive. The man was loose with the rules when it came to housekeeping, but this looked like an attack. There was a shift in sound that made Lightning freeze. She held a hand behind her back, signaling Zalera's attention. The couch. There was someone behind the couch.

Lightning took a step towards the couch, her gunblade ready to strike down whomever the coward in hiding was. Just as her finger wavered over the trigger, a man sat up swiftly, his triple-barrel revolver trained on her.

Lightning's finger eased off, but not before a chakram flew past. It landed with a deafening _shickkkk_ a few millimeters from the man's ear, a sharp spike embedded into the wall. With wide violet eyes, the man's head turned to look at the weapon, his nose kissing the metal. He deflated. His arm fell, gun tumbling to the floor. "Honestly. Remember, ladies. Violence isn't the answer."

"Cass," Lightning sighed. Her look searched him, his eyes, asking if they had company, if she needed to be on guard for any threat. He answered with a roll of the eyes, so Lightning sheathed her weapon.

"Well, don't you look like death," Zalera said, and it wasn't an inaccurate statement. The bags under his eyes were a testament to long nights either gaming or reading, but the bruising around his eye and beneath his jaw was deep enough to spot in the darkness of his apartment. His lip was split, cheek swollen to where it morphed the shape of his words.

"I thought women were supposed to be into the rugged look."

Zalera walked her way around the mess, tugging her chakram free from the wall with a disinterested glance in Cass' direction. She paused before bending and Lightning could see the outline of Cass' gun in her hand. There was a heft to it, with the way it weighed down Zalera's hand. Not the weapon that Lightning would have picked for a person such as Cass.

"You smell like an Alchemic Ooze," Zalera said, a gagging quality to her voice. "When was the last time you bathed?"

"Whatever, I'm still the finest thing your eyes have ever seen. Cutting it a little close, huh, babe?" Cass rubbed at his ear, like he was protecting it from the strike that could have been.

"You think I missed you by accident?" Zalera dropped his revolver unceremoniously and Lightning heard the _oomph_ as it hit him. "Sorry, that hurt?"

"If this wasn't the biggest turn on of my life."

"What happened?" Lightning asked. With Cass' family history, Lightning suspected the boy's father. Lightning shifted, hearing a crack. She moved her boot to find a cracked picture frame holding a photo of Cass and Kori. No, with this kind of structural damage, that was unlikely. His Sanctum contacts, maybe? Hope and Nivien were both convinced that Cass was sniffing closer and closer toward something deadly. There was a part of her mind that thought that this could be Castea's work. The timing between this and Hope's attack seemed too coincidental. Lightning didn't believe in coincidence.

Cass slid himself up the wall, his weight held against it. Despite the awkward way he was holding himself, he smirked. "You know me, just can't resist a good time."

"Some tramp you hook decide to exact revenge when she saw how little you had to offer?" Zalera mused.

"Wow, she has a sense of humor. Two women with brains, brawn, humor, and unbelievable sexiness. Man, Hope doesn't know what he has."

"Still a pervert, I see," Lightning accused.

"Still such a prude, I see." Cass winked before picking up his weapon and sliding it into the back of his pants. He sat himself on the peak of the overturned couch, foot sinking into the hole in the fabric. "Seeing as I apparently welcome unannounced guests in my home, come on in. Have a seat."

"What's going on-"

Cass waved a hand, brushing off Lightning's concern. "Like I said, just a good time gone better. This is what happens when a party's done right."

Lightning didn't buy it for a minute. "If this has anything to do with who's after Hope, then you best explain."

"I heard what happened. I'm glad Hope's all right, but don't think that everything is about Hope. Your world may revolve around him, but that doesn't mean that mine has to."

The way that Cass phrased that, with a cocked head and shallow notes to his voice, made Lightning question what she was doing there. Was this really the guy that grew up with Hope? That knew him in ways only a best friend would? That stated, with a sniffly nose and reverence on his breath, that he looked to Hope like a brother?

"Mmm, a particularly frosty glare. How I have missed those. I assume you two didn't decide to swing by simply for my company. So what do Wonder Woman and tall, green and exotic want with little old me?"

Lightning could hear her patience ticking, each second that passed clenching her nerves in a vice. "Hope-"

"I could have guessed." Cass sat back on a hand, kicking his legs against the couch underbelly. "The prince is on everyone's lips. Heh. I suppose that's a literal thing for you."

"What's your problem?" Lightning snapped. Cass was a monstrous runt on a good day, but this disdain dripping from his words, his tone, his posture. Lightning didn't like it.

"Looks like good, old-fashioned jealousy, to me," Zalera interjected.

"Jealousy?!" the both of them squawked. Lightning's head whipped back around to look at an affronted, yet interestingly flustered Cass.

"…"

Zalera might have been on to something.

"You're jealous of him?" Lightning asked, certain pieces fitting together. "You… you want to be like Hope?"

"Woah!" Cass cut a hand across his throat, the movement so sudden that it offset his balance on the couch. He slipped off, landing clumsily on the side of his ankle before he recovered. "Woah. Woah, there. I never said that I was jealous."

"Your frantic and adamant objection says otherwise," Lightning remarked, lips lifting at the boy's pout.

"And I never said that I want to be like him."

"Some people just aren't honest about their feelings." Zalera swung her chakram back into her back straps, her glance swaying between them.

"Who asked you?" they both shouted.

"ANYWAY!" Cass yanked the beanie from his head, itching behind an ear. "What… What do you need from me concerning Hope?"

Lightning noted how Cass' fingers ran around the rim of his beanie before he swirled it around his finger. He set his shoulders back, posture sagging. It was like meeting him for the first time. He looked like a punk without a care in the world. She could only wonder how much of it was an act.

How much of his life was an act.

Hope needed her attention.

"Information."

Cass clicked his tongue. His gaze strayed to the wall, then down to the floor where a broken clock laid. "Alyssa can't help you with that?"

"I suspect that Alyssa's knowledge is limited. She knows Hope only in an official capacity. She was clear about his boundaries concerning their interaction."

"Hope had the stones to set _boundaries_? Color me shocked. Impressed, really. I thought he was going to put up with her longing looks and the pathetic pawing forever. So does this mean that you want to know more about Hope in an… _unofficial_ capacity? The down and dirty? Behind closed doors? Boxers or briefs? His preferred position?"

"God, you are disgusting."

"Don't act like you haven't thought about it."

"You sound like you've thought about it," Zalera snarked.

"Don't insult our bromance. It is a pure, untainted love, you nasty."

"I want him to relax," Lightning yielded, much louder than intended and with a pulse of repressed energy. Christ, she wanted this conversation over with before it started. "He needs to take more time for himself. I need to know what he likes to do. His hobbies. His interests. Anything. Just. For once in your life be forthcoming with information without being an ass about it."

The spinning beanie stopped. Half a minute passed. Along with another glance at the broken clock. "… I guess I could do that." Cass itched at his cheek, only to wince as he grazed a swollen, golf ball-sized bruise. "Nivien and I used to drag him out to parties, but he never seemed comfortable in those settings. Dancing, drinking, flirting – none of it was his scene. He's the type that throws himself into his work and doesn't know what to do with himself afterwards. It's frustrating, right? He has to help people like he's racing against time. In the old days, Hope spent a lot of his time with his mom. He learned to cook and sew and garden from her. She taught him basic carpentry and car maintenance, how to manage money and trade stocks. Hope was sheltered, but Nora made sure he would grow up to be self-sufficient."

There was a sharp pang in Lightning's chest. It was no wonder that Hope loved his mother so much. She was everything that a mother could be. Everything that her own mother was not.

"He was a reader. Not, like, fiction or fantasy stuff, but. Technical books. Medical books. Nonfiction. The stuff that puts normal kids in comas out of boredom. He collected boomerangs, tweaked and customized them. Won a couple awards back in the day. The nerdiest of awards for boomerang schematic shit, but he was into it. The thing… The thing that put him at ease the most, I think," Cass said, all serious and earnest as he matched Lightning's concentrated gaze, "was his violin. I only ever caught him playing once – _one time_ because it was a weirdly private thing for him and I was undeserving of listening and he put it away as soon as he caught me and never talked about it. Still, it was… I don't know, he looked the most himself. If that makes sense."

It did. Oddly enough.

"Thanks, Cass."

"We may not be as close as we used to be, but… take care of him, please. Hope shares himself with a select few. He trusts you. Rely on that more than any information I've given you."

Lightning stared back at Cass. His broken face. Torn clothes. Tornadoed apartment.

She should lend a hand to help.

She didn't.

* * *

Cass didn't know how to feel as the door swung closed. As he sat in his wreck of a home, against a couch that could no longer hold its shape. Despite his misgivings, he gave the best advice he could, unloaded the most valuable information he had about Hope into Lightning's hands. Hope was damned lucky to have people like Lightning in his corner. People that would do anything for him for nothing.

Jealous…

Cass' jovial smile fell, and he laughed a little at himself.

Glass shattered as heavy feet trampled over the leftovers of Cass' possessions. Cass looked up, his hand hovering between his pocket and the back of his pants. "You wait in the shadows any longer and you're going to be mistaken for a creeper, Waynes."

Waynes emerged from the bedroom, ringed fingers clicking as they tapped against his thigh. "Here I thought you liked that in an admirer."

"Nah. I like my stalkers to be old fashioned. Standing outside my window with a boom box and shit."

"Expecting any more visitors that I should know about?"

"Because I was expecting them."

"Hmph, women of their caliber in your company. A waste, I'd say."

Cass tossed his scoff back at him. "You think they should be breaking down your door?"

Waynes gave a gruff sound just short of offended. "They will do worse next time. You know that."

"I can take worse. What else do I have to lose?" Cass jutted out his chin, pretending to root out trash from beneath his upended furniture, his hand edging closer to his concealed weapons as Waynes edged closer to real threats.

Cass watched as the tip of Wayne's loafer nudged his fallen picture frame. "Too much."

"You wouldn't."

"I wouldn't. No. Me getting these dirty?" Waynes held up his hands, meaty, hairy things. Probably stained with more blood than Cass had in his entire body. "You must be crazy."

"You can leave now."

"You chose this path, Leonald. Remember why you made this commitment in the first place. Remember how you felt all those years ago. Abandoned. Betrayed. Forgotten. Alone."

"I get it! Now leave."

Waynes did just that. The door closed, but didn't click shut. There was nothing there to catch. Cass pulled his gun from his pants, considered sticking it in his mouth and letting a bullet tear the fowl thoughts out. The reminders. Those feelings. Instead he set the revolver down, and shuffled off to find wherever the hell he kept the broom.

"I'll prove how little you are. This time, I won't be the one left in the dark."

* * *

Castea stood atop a building, watching the city ants walking below. In her mind's eye, she could see her plan working perfectly. Hope seeking and retrieving the crystals - him piecing the fragments together - the world ripping itself apart and all life disintegrating into nothing as Bhunivelze graced the planet with his presence - a new world born from this one's ashes. _If only Hope would cooperate._ After everything Castea had done in her life, after everything she'd worked toward, she wasn't going to let a man get in her way. _The defiant brat should know by now that I am not one to be trifled with. I swear, if he weren't so important, I would have gutted him ages ago._

Sebastian came up behind her. She could hear the hesitation in his footsteps, the wisps of a disappointed sigh. "Lady Hidon."

"Have you located the Pulsian, yet? The one with ties to Zalera?"

He shook his head as she turned toward him. He bowed his head, speaking toward the ground. "We almost had him, trekked him across the Steppe, but we lost his trail. We think he attached himself to another tribe."

Castea put her finger under his chin. There was no resistance as she lifted his head, met his eyes. "Do not fret, darling. I didn't expect you to have collected him yet, but he could prove useful in the future. Find him. I'm not sure what measures we'll have to take to get the young Estheim moving..." She paused and turned to peek down at more ants as they resurfaced. Her smile stretched as pink and green came back into sight. "But my patience is wearing thin."


	17. Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An illusory battle, a secret, and a dance to be remembered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is "Human" by Civil Twilight

"Quite the charmer," Zalera said, glancing back at Cass' apartment complex. "Useful, though."

"To a point."

"Have any idea what he was lying about his apartment for? Should we be concerned?"

"You caught that too." Lightning pulled out her comm, thumb hovering over Dornum's contact information. "Cass wants to keep secrets. Let him keep his secrets. I have one job, and that's to ensure Hope's safety. Cass can look after himself."

"Can he?"

"He's a runt, but he's smarter than he looks. More resourceful than I give him credit for, and he wielded that gun with the purpose of using it. He's in trouble, but I'm not about to stick my nose in a situation where I'm not wanted."

"Unless it concerns Hope."

Lightning ignored the humor in Zalera's tone. Was she really that predictable? "You got it."

Lightning felt something shift, a zinging sensation rushing up her spine. She held her hand up, her other tucking her phone away before it went to her hilt. "Something's up." The air felt stagnate, heavy. An eerie quiet pressed down upon the city. Lightning's gaze drifted over their surroundings, noticing that everything was eclipsed in an unnatural stillness. Cars were paused mid-motion, civilians frozen in time. There was no wind at her back, though the clouds drifted overhead and a flag flapped in the distance. Time stopped around them, leaving them in their own little bubble. A picturesque, snow globe scene. "What are the chances that this doesn't have something to do with us?" Lightning asked, rhetorically.

"Zero." Zalera took hold of her chakrams, body tense as Lightning's. She stared, bewildered. "He used to do this. Rarely, but…"

"Who?"

"Yeul's-" Zalera stopped, her body taking a fighting stance as hatred tore apart her expression. "Son of a bitch."

Sebastian.

He was ahead of them. Standing with his smug grin that Lightning was going to rip off with his head. Just as she had done before. There was another rush up her spine, leading Lightning to notice the others grouped around them. Fourteen, by her count. More cloaked figures and dread shook Lightning to her core. The last time this happened, Hope was taken. He was tortured. She barely got him back. He still wasn't back. Not completely.

She wasn't going to let it happen again. They weren't going to distract her while Hope was in danger. Despite that sense of panic, the urgency telling her to run, leave, save Hope, she wanted to tear the man to shreds. He stood in front of her, alive and smiling and _maker_ , did Lightning want to reduce Sebastian to liquid waste. She seethed, her grip tightening until her arm shook with tightly wound anticipation.

Fury.

Fear.

"My fair guardians," Sebastian called out, his arms extended as if welcoming them. "I have missed you both."

Lightning felt her reason slipping, her boot turning in his direction, her body ready to leap at him. Slice him apart. If beheading him wasn't enough, she would take every limb from him and more. Force them down his throat.

"I'll kill you," Zalera said, her voice low and cold. Then she screeched, "I'll kill you!" and the fight was on. She swiped her chakram across the throat of one of Sebastian's people. The spray a red line that she tore across.

Lightning lunged for her first prey, catching a faceless, cloaked bastard off guard as she slashed her blade across his chest. He fell with a wet thud as she went for another. Red took over Lightning's vision, the deaths of these people her single-minded focus. She was a rabid dog that had been let loose, teeth and claws ready.

Firing three shots from her gunblade, Lightning aimed at another's face. The bullets bounced off of an invisible barrier, that of a protection spell. Lightning switched gears, ducking in below the barrier to knee him in the stomach. He lurched forward, allowing Lightning to sink her blade into the back of his neck. These people were cocky, cowardous bastards, relying too much on their magic. That last one seemed surprised that she had gotten past his spell, too shocked to react in time.

A chakram swooped past Lightning, expertly maneuvering around Lightning's outstretched arm before it hit another opponent. Lightning turned back, watching Zalera fight with roaring force. Lightning's attention was drawn back as a sharp cold rippled up her ankle. She looked down to find her foot frozen in place. Two l'Cie approached and Lightning jerked her leg to free it with little success. Lightning ducked a dagger only to grunt at the blast of heat that caught her side. She sucked in a breath, dodging another blow from a fira as she slid out her foot and swung her body to the right. Pivoting, Lightning twisted her immobile ankle to the point where it screamed in opposition. She caught the flamethrower by the legs, slicing across their kneecaps before stabbing upwards through skin and muscle and into his mouth. Blood gushed down her arm, gurgling from the l'Cie's mouth until she ripped her blade free.

She turned to meet the other, his dagger already zooming in her direction. The metal of his weapon was sheathed in an enfire, flames crackling off of it. Lightning let the weapon in, closer, closer, until she swung her gunblade down, parrying the attack. The force of her swing brought the dagger to her foot where it shattered the immobilizing ice in an instant, granting her freedom to move. She slammed her foot down onto the hand of her attacker, loosening his hold on his dagger. She shot four shots into his back, his body spasming as each bullet struck home.

"I'll kill you! I'll kill all of you! Every last one of you!" She could hear Zalera yelling, but she was farther away now. Lightning looked, catching Zalera take out two attackers until she was picked up and tossed into the street by a third. Her body collided with a car, rolling over it and down to where Lightning could no longer see her.

"Zalera?! Are you-?"

Lightning took a punch to the jaw that threw her from her feet. She flew into a lamppost, the metal groaning as she struck. There was a cracking sound and Lightning could feel the collision in her spine. It jellied her limbs, but only for a moment. She found her footing just before the l'Cie – a bulky woman with a three-clawed scar across her face – dove for her. Lightning took another punch, to the stomach, the chest, the cheek, until she swung her elbow out. The l'Cie caught her haphazard swing, but wasn't watching for the gunblade as Lightning aimed it at her. Lightning took another hit just as a bullet fired, lodged between the woman's first two claw marks.

Lightning stepped forward, restraining a cry as pain from her ankle and back jolted her body. She nearly crumbled, but caught herself on her gunblade, stabbing it into the ground as she held herself up.

_Hope. Hope needs you._

Lightning pulled herself up, flipping out of the way of another l'Cie. He grabbed her calf, snatching her out of the air and slamming her into the wall of a building. Lightning could feel her breath seize and something in her shoulder snap, but she kept going, wheezing as she stood. A gloved fist came toward Lightning's face from the lanky l'Cie that had grabbed her. She snapped her head to the side, watching as the fist flew into the wall before she kicked the l'Cie's legs out from under him.

"You're quite the fighter," was all the man got to say before her blade ripped through his face, skewering him.

"You have no idea."

A ways away Lightning could see Sebastian making his way toward a distracted Zalera, the woman engaged in a four against one battle. He had his eyes on the elder, but Lightning knew that he was speaking to her.

"And just think. Last time this happened, my queen was whisking your charge away as we fought. I wonder what she shall do with him now."

Fury burned through Lightning. Her rage vanished just as quickly as it ignited when she realized just how close the man was to Zalera. Without her notice, Sebastian's sword came toward Zalera, ready to slice her open.

"Look out," screamed Lightning, but she wasn't fast enough. The blade swung across Zalera's abdomen. Her blood sprayed the ground. She followed it, falling forward at Sebastian's feet. "Poor Zalera. You can't seem to protect anyone, can you? Not either of your tribes. Not Yeul. Everyone dies while you're too weak to do anything."

"Get away from her!" Lightning swung her blade, but it struck against Sebastian's shell. Her gunblade flew from her hand. Sebastian laughed as it landed, a clang of useless metal. Lighting smashed her fist into his laughing, monstrous face. Sebastian hardly seemed surprised, using her attack against her as he gripped the back of her hair and slammed her head down into a car not once, not twice, but three times before he let her body fall to the ground next to her fallen blade and comrade. Her vision faded, blinking in and out as her eyelids fluttered.

"It seems that this would be goodbye." His blade was then summoned back into his palm, ready for battle. Sebastian brought it down toward Lightning's still form, plunging it toward her chest. Lightning's eyes shot open as she rolled away from the descending blade. With a pained smirk, she gripped her gunblade and stabbed it into the man's chest. She was ready to stab again and again until there was nothing left but bits of the large man. He would bleed. He would scream. She would make him beg for his life.

But

She blinked.

The world was right again. Cars rolled by. People walked, talked and laughed. Stop lights blinked from green to yellow to red. Zalera and Lightning were back as they originally were, facing each other, Lightning's comm in hand, Dornum's number at her fingertips. All marks were gone. Injuries nonexistent. The scene around them left unmarred.

Wide eyes stared into each other's, leaving Lightning to mutter a quiet, "What the fuck?"

* * *

The conclusion the two had reached as they entered Hope's driveway was that the fight hadn't occurred. Not to the rest of the world. Zalera and Lightning knew that they fought the group of l'Cie. Nearly lost. Nearly won. Lightning could feel the pain still rippling through her body like a rampaging storm. There were no marks, no blood. Her shoulder no longer throbbed and her skin no longer burned. Her spine didn't feel like it was snap, crackle, popping. But the echoes of the fight still remained burned in her memory, the pain a phantom that traced its fingers along her limbs.

Lightning had called Hope the second her thoughts congealed back into the present. He answered, and she felt the world as real as the concrete beneath her feet. Hope was fine. Laughing at one of his friends as they said something just out of earshot. Hope hadn't been taken. He hadn't been touched.

 _"You on your way back yet?"_ Hope asked, eager.

It made her question herself, yet again.

If Sebastian hadn't fought them to distract her from Hope, then what was their motivation?

"We can't tell him," Zalera said. She looked up at Hope's house, her eyes bouncing over the heads of each guard, counting. "Or anyone, for that matter."

"Hope could be in danger. We can't not tell him."

"Whatever happened, it was intentional. They came after us for a reason. Actually, Sebastian targeted _you_ for a reason. They didn't go near Hope. You know why."

Lightning placed a hand to her head, remembering the crush of her facial bones as she was slammed forth into the hood of a car. She was a weakness. For as much as Lightning lamented about Hope being her Achilles heel, one of the only two people that could bring her to her knees, she hadn't thought about how much of a weakness she was for Hope.

"Castea is using you against him, using her tricks to get him to follow her agenda by attacking you. Because no matter what, the one thing that will get him moving is you."

Lightning fisted her hands, grinding her fingernails into her palms. She didn't like being used, utilized as a damsel needing to be rescued. She _hated_ this. "Those bastards. I don't care what they're trying to pull."

"Even if they succeed?" There was a cockiness to Zalera's tone, the elder privy to insights that Lightning was not.

Lightning didn't care. "We should get the damn things already. We aren't getting anywhere with this. Instead of continuously avoiding the problem, let's face it-"

"And get Hope killed?"

Hope's previous injuries flashed in her mind. His body gaunt from malnourishment. The haunted look on his face. He could have died. Countless times he faced death. He struggled forward on willpower alone. By thinking of Lightning, of her stupid words.

_'Fighting without hope is no way to live, it's just another way to die.'_

She was one to talk. What hope did she have? She willed herself to save Serah, but her sister was still a crystal. She willed herself to save cocoon, yet it was stuck frozen in time. Now, she was betting everything she had on Hope.

_Ugh, he is the only hope that I have now. I feel as embarrassed about his name as he does…_

"Get the rest of the world and ourselves obliterated? That's all that will come of getting those damn crystals." Zalera was on a tear, despite having already convinced Lightning. Lightning made no move to stop her. "You don't know what will happen. You didn't see it. Yeul did. She saw a world decimated, people incinerated before they could think to run. Or your precious Hope dying while trying to stop it." Zalera gripped Lightning's shoulders tightly, pressing her fingers into Lightning with such uncertainty like she was still trying to get a grasp on reality. "Your first instinct is to fight, to protect at all costs. I don't blame you because it's mine too, but nothing good will come of the crystals. This time we have to wait and figure out a strategy to take Castea down."

"We should still tell them. Tell Hope. He needs to know, to be prepared."

"No." A sigh fell from her lips as Zalera let go. "You and I both know that will only set Hope off. He can't know."

They entered the house to a roaring bustle of activity. There was guffawing laughter and uncontrollable giggling. A scream blasting through television speakers jerked Lightning's attention before there was a hyper cry of "That's what you get for walking around in your panties. You die first!" from Lebreau.

They entered the living room in time for Zalera to duck a flung card from the group on the floor.

"No!" Maqui shouted, throwing another card with avid disdain. "You _do not_ get to hit me with another draw four. I have a book already. A god damn novel. Pick a different card."

"That's not how Uno works, Maq," Hope said with a wheezing laugh.

The sight was all it took to settle Lightning. She knew Hope had been fine. But seeing him, smiling, joking, being shoved over by the arm of a friend as he whined over Lebreau stealing a peek at his cards, made her heart calm. She realized then that Zalera was right. Hope didn't need to know, to get more worked up and angry and afraid than he already was. He deserved this moment of reprieve. He deserved happiness.

Maqui, Lebreau, Yuj, and Hope sat in the middle of the living room, tossing Uno cards at each other. Rygdea and Sazh were in the corner, talking around a lazy game of darts. A slasher film was on the television, some naked woman being chased by an axe-wielding maniac. Not one of the four on the floor noticed them enter. Rygdea caught Lightning's eye, giving her a welcome nod, the tilt of his lips an obvious 'He's all right. Got his back covered.' Like she was the open book and not Hope.

Hope excused himself, standing and taking the other entrance out. "You guys are such cheats."

"Boo," Yuj jeered. "Gonna go cry in a corner?"

"I'm getting water, you jerk."

"Oooh, grab me a Coke!" Lebreau called, flicking a wild out. "Yellow."

"You've got to be _kidding_ me! I almost won," Yuj lamented and Maqui cackled in his face.

"That's what you get. Snag me a Fanta, Hope."

"Get it yourself!" Hope's voice echoed.

Lightning bumped Zalera's shoulder as she followed Hope, tossing her a look. Zalera nodded.

"I can't stop it, can I?" Lightning heard Hope as she closed in on the kitchen. "I can't stop what's coming." He was standing in front of the refrigerator, one hand holding a glass while three fingers pressed deep into his brand. Hope huffed a breath through his nose, wavering as his fingers slid up his wrist, circling around where the marks from restraints had once been. Lightning felt a touch closer to Hope after her latest encounter with Sebastian. She got a glimpse into Hope's feelings, knew what it was like to feel wounds on your body that nobody else could see. To hide trauma in your mind like it never existed.

"Harleen was wrong. It's not Zalera that doesn't belong. I'm the monster. I should be isolated from Academia, Cocoon, everyone… I'm no better than Castea."

"You don't believe that."

Hope jolted, the glass falling from his grip. It hit the side of the counter, shattering on contact. Hope cringed at the sound, seeming to startle for an entirely different reason. Fear emanated from Hope's body, and Lightning could see that no matter Hope's words he was still shaken from the events of the previous day. He looked with the same clouded eyes he had woken with in the hospital, held caution in his body like a survival instinct.

His guard was up, but Lightning eased it back down. She took his jackrabbit jumpiness in stride, regarding him with a studied nonchalance. "It's just you and me here," she said, soothing until she realized that maybe it wasn't. Was there a third presence in the room? Another occupant in his mind? "Right?"

"Yeah," Hope breathed, blinking and it was only then that Lightning realized that his eyes had remained wide, wide open. "Just us. Its. It's just us."

"Good."

"Yes."

Lightning leaned in. Hope pulled her into a hug before Lightning could fully offer one. He breathed in, his nose in her hair, holding on to her with such childlike desperation.

"Good. It's very good. Can we… stay like this? For a bit?"

Lightning hated how her thoughts wandered to the living room. Lebreau or Maqui could come looking for their drinks. Sazh could come check on Hope in concern.

"I've got nowhere to be," Lightning decided. She moved closer, glass crunching beneath her boots as she settled into the space left to be filled. The unspoken buzzed in Lightning's body, burdening her footsteps, her arms as they gathered him in.

_I can't tell you._

* * *

Hope slipped his tie free, retying it for the fourth time. Or was it the fifth? Nerves jangled in his bones. Left him scrutinizing himself with a dissatisfied frown. Hope still didn't feel like he belonged in his uniform. Now this. The suit felt two sizes too big, snug in the collar, despite having been tailored to his body. "I feel like a ghost," Hope said, yanking on his collar for the umpteenth time. The jet black made his complexion appear even pastier, bones jagged.

"I like the vest," Zalera complemented, meeting him at the bottom of the stairs. "Matches your eyes."

"I feel like we're going for a theme, here," Hope joked, gesturing to Zalera's strapless green dress and glittery green heels. Her hair was up in a softly curled ponytail that bounced with each step, beads click-clacking.

"I called it first," Zalera complained with mock petulance. "Get your own color."

"What is with your obsession with green?" Lightning asked from atop the stairs. Hope looked up, stilling as he watched her descend. Lightning was a sight to behold. Her deep purple gown was simple, accentuating her curves and flowing down from mid-thigh. It was strapless with a sweetheart neckline, open backed, crystal-like gems lining the curves of her breasts. Her hair was up in a sock bun, the strands shimmering in a way that Hope was probably imagining. _I don't sparkle_ , he could hear her scoff already. A light make-up dusted her face, her lightning bolt necklace dangling around her neck.

"Breathe, Hope," Zalera reminded, and he felt his jaw being pushed shut.

Hope swallowed as Lightning huffed her way down the stairs. "I knew I should have chosen something more suitable for mobility…" Lightning adjusted her skirt with a curled lip before looking up. "It's impolite to stare, Hope." A humored quirk melted her frown as she took Hope's tie in her hands, knotting it before slipping it into his vest.

"You look gorgeous, Light," Hope managed.

Lightning rose a brow. She looked down at herself, clicking a heel down as she made a skeptical noise in the back of her throat. Her eyes scanned up Hope's attire, and he wondered if it was too late to get a tan. A lighter suit. Something that didn't make him look like a specter in waiting.

"You don't look so bad yourself."

Hope smiled brightly, holding out an arm. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

The Grand Hall was where the soiree was being held.

The building's construction had been funded and built by the Harleens, its space devoted to the family's whims and agenda. This included speeches, fundraisers, galas, balls, any events that helped accrue their family's wealth or further the patriarch's political career. One such event was the annual soiree held in Kori's honor. It was a birthday party that had been a traditional, city-wide affair back in Palumpolum. On Cocoon, the soiree was a celebration of Kori's existence. On Pulse, the said reason behind the soiree was to celebrate life. 'Because the fall of Cocoon taught us to appreciate and cherish the lives we were given'.

_Right. That is exactly what tonight is about._

Hope had a hard time containing his dubiety.

The hall was crafted almost entirely of marble, its height a sizable two-hundred feet. Stone steps led to an intricately carved archway, decorated with filigree etchings. Angels were sculpted into the walls, their arms stretching toward the sky, seeking solace, wisdom, an explanation, or so Hope thought. Above the entrance were the words 'We shall live on'. This had been a common phrase in the early days after the fall, when the remaining Cocoon populace needed motivation and resolve in the face of adversity. Inside were polished marble floors and high ceilings that amplified sound. Mahogany tables with silk tablecloths were set around the rim of the dance floor beside pillars that were purely decorative. There was a stage before the floor for entertainment, performances or speeches. An orchestra held the floor for the night.

"I would say that this all seems incredibly pretentious," Lightning appraised, her voice low, conscious of the joy-filled citizens buzzing around her, "but I doubt that it's of popular opinion."

Hope adjusted his tie again, moving a hand to fluff his bangs self-consciously over his half brow. "No, you're right. What is titled as a monument of hope is more aptly known as a shrine for the wealthy and powerful. My father lobbied against this building's construction. He lost, obviously."

"Why was he against it?"

"The amount of money that funded it could have fed all of Academia. Half of the populace was still living in camps when it was proposed. This is a place that serves to further separate the classes of our society, polarizing people who should be brought together. This building is just another place that is stunning in its structure, but disgusting in its purpose."

"I thought you didn't judge people by their wealth. Such as Kori."

"I don't. I judge them by what they do with it. This," Hope scuffed his shoe on the marble gown of an angel that protruded from the wall, "is a waste that our economy doesn't need to feed or foster."

"Kicking angels?" Maqui approached, shaking his head in a show of disappointment at the display. "That's downright sacrilegious."

"Every year, Maq?" Hope countered. "I figured you would stop wearing those to formal events eventually."

Maqui gasped with dramatic flair, a hand before his mouth as if he'd been personally affronted. "Never! I will wear my goggles until the day I die."

"He wears those things in the shower, man," Cass added. He poked a finger under the band, pulling the goggles up from Maqui's head just enough before letting them snap back down, a pained yelp succeeding the action. "It's the only committed relationship this dude will ever see."

"No respect," Maqui grumbled, hands a barrier over his goggles. "I get absolutely no respect."

"Where's Yuj and Lebreau?" Hope asked.

Lebreau popped up from behind the quarreling Cass and Maqui, pulling at the hem of her thigh-length dress decorated with black and violet swirls. "Yuj… didn't feel up to this. The dancing and the schmoozing. To be honest, I'm having a hard time mustering up the spunk." She smiled a broken smile, one that ached for the missing member of their team.

Hope swallowed against his guilt. "You don't have to strain yourself."

"Aw, it's alright. I think, though…" Lebreau pitched herself into Hope's space, teetering forward on her high-heeled boots, her hands poking and prodding at his face. She was wearing gloves, her lacy fingers feeling extra textured on his renewed skin. "We should do something about this." Lebreau pulled him over to the side, around the bend of a column, and slipped something from her purse. It looked like a silver pencil. "Brought this just for you."

Hope jerked himself back as the sharp-pointed pencil encroached upon his eyebrow. "You want to put make-up on me?" His voice pitched like he was a bratty fourteen year old going through puberty again.

"You want a full two eyebrows?" Lebreau asked, expression smug because they both knew the answer.

Hope looked skeptically between the pencil and Lebreau, before giving a reluctant nod. "I'm just lucky that she didn't take my hair."

"Eh. You could pull it off." Lebreau leaned in, and Hope did his best not to cringe. "You'd look like a hot monk or something."

"Or something."

When Lebreau was done, she flashed a pleased grin, hands on her hips, before she passed him her compact for a mirror. He had to admit, it was a professional-grade job, looking as natural as an eye pencil could accomplish. She added some gel to the front of his hair, swooping his bangs from his face. "There. Ever the dashing prince."

"Thanks, Lebreau. I feel… a little more me now."

"You're always you," Lebreau patted him on the arm with hard smacks, refusing to treat him like he was breakable the way everyone else did, "two eyebrows or not."

"Very nice," Sazh acknowledged, clapping as Hope and Lebreau made their way back to the group. Hope bowed with a fluttering hand.

"I thought she was gonna fix your face?" Maqui asked.

"At least my face can be fixed. That's more than I can say for your personality."

"Buuuuuurn," Cass laughed, hooking an arm around Sazh's neck. "How's the overgrown chicken?"

Sazh cuffed him over the head. "How many times do we gotta go through this?"

"Not a chicken. Right. Got it," confirmed Cass as he rubbed the abused area with a pout.

"Not winning any popularity contests tonight, Cass," Lightning gibed.

"When is my baby brother ever popular?" Kori decided to make an appearance then. Their group broke apart as she entered their circle. "But he looks dashing in his tux. Aren't you just so adorkable?" She mussed up Cass's hair. Cass bit at her hand and Kori yanked it out of reach.

"It's wonderful to see you too, sis. I _am_ lookin' pretty sharp, huh? More than I can say for you. Jeez, Kori, I don't know if I can even be seen with you." He turned on his heel and walked away, diving into the mass of attendees.

"You little punk, get back here," Kori hollered. "Whatever." She rolled her shoulders back into a proper stance, wiped the annoyance from her features and pasted on a prettified smile. Adorned in a quarter-sleeved gown of a deep blue, Kori looked every bit the part of an entitled heiress. Black roses were embroidered into the material, looking velvety in their smoothness. The dress hugged her midsection and cascaded down to the floor from her waist. Her red hair was in an updo, a few strands intentionally framing her heart-shaped face. "Anyhow, I'm touched that you all made it. There's a buffet table over there if you're feeling peckish. Don't hesitate to dance, drink, mingle. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have guests to entertain." Kori curtsied out of their group, turning and engaging an unsuspecting couple.

"She's a completely different person around her brother," commented Lightning.

"Pretty much," Lebreau replied. She leaned over, a hand cupped around her mouth as if spilling a secret. "They're actually really cute."

A shrug of the shoulders was Maqui's response before he said that he was starved and was going to check out the food, Lebreau and Sazh in tow.

"Hope! Light!" a child's voice called. They turned to find little Arden running up to them, an exasperated Jun searching from behind. Hope caught her eye, assuring her that he would watch him. She smiled, sitting at a table with a grateful nod.

"Hey, Arden. I see you're causing all kinds of ruckuses for your poor nana again." Hope bent down to ruffle the kid's blueish-purple locks.

"Hey! Nivien combed that for me," Arden scolded with a pout. His hands rushed up, tiny fingers combing the strands back down.

Hope rose a brow, suddenly very conscious of Lightning at his side. "She here?"

"Yup, she came over to help us ready and drove us here. She's been coming over bunches lately. She cries a lot. I think she misses her brother."

"Ah," was all Hope could reply with as he stood up.

"Don't you look all handsome," Zalera said, and the awkwardness dissipated. She crouched down in front of Arden and held out her hand. "What's your name, cutie?"

Arden giggled and blushed at the attention before thrusting his hand out to shake hers. "I'm Arden Rosch. I'm eight years old."

Lightning's eyebrows shot up at the surname and she turned toward Hope with quiet surprise. Hope frowned.

"Hondura Lin Zalera, twenty-six."

"That's a long name."

"Not really. You can call me Zalera. Why don't we dance, Arden?"

"Okay!" The boy did an excited little shimmy before grabbing Zalera's hand.

As the two walked off to the dance floor, Lightning turned to Hope, "Rosch, huh?"

Hope sighed, picking up a small plate and munching on the colorful selection of hors d'oeuvres. "Yup."

"Relative?"

"His son."

"I didn't know he had a son... His job and his duty was his life. I can't imagine him as a family man…"

"It's not common knowledge." Hope took a bite out of a chocolate-coated raspberry, mmm-ing at the flavor. "Rygdea said that Arden's mom was just a one night stand and that Arden's existence hadn't changed anything for Rosch. He remained focused on his ambitions and his career. Arden's mother raised him on her own. Jun was a part of Arden's life far more than her son ever was."

"But Jun said that Arden's father was still alive and crystallized in Cocoon. He died."

Hope chewed for a moment before swallowing. "He was presumed dead. His body was never found. He could still be alive up there. After all, we last saw him alive before-"

"Don't you remember hearing the explosion? You don't really think-"

"I choose to hope," spoke Hope softly. "And so does Jun. I don't have the heart to tell her of my suspicions. It was her son."

Lightning clicked her tongue in a way that conveyed disapproval, but acquiescence. Lightning wasn't the type for false hope and half-truths. But there was a comfort in them that Hope couldn't deny Rosch's family. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

Lightning's voice sounded unusually pinched and Hope wondered if he was missing something. Yaag Rosch had been a blip in their lives. A villain, maybe a comrade in the end. An earnest soul that lost its way, sucked into the wicked machinations of a higher being. Had Lightning known him? Or was this a lingering, second-hand sadness for a parent and child connection cut too soon? Was she thinking of her own father?

"How are my guests today?" Harleen asked, his tone polite, amicable, but there was a viciousness in his eyes, a vendetta there from their last encounter.

Before any rash actions could be made by the quick-to-anger woman at his side, Hope simply wrapped a reassuring hand calmly, yet sternly around her upper arm. He didn't feel the need to return Harleen's fake smile, replying with an equally, if not mockingly, polite response. "Simply marvelous, and you?"

Harleen began to reply, but was cut off as his daughter joined his side. "Daddy's doing wonderfully, aren't you, daddy? He's going to be a kind and gracious host to _everyone_ tonight, right?"

With a practiced, politician's smile and a nod, Harleen hid his disagreeable nature. "Of course, my dear," he agreed, pulling on the bottom of his elegant cream-colored suit jacket as he bowed before his two guests. "In fact, I have others to greet. If you will excuse me."

Kori sighed as he walked off. "I don't know what he has against you. I apologize for his behavior."

Hope waved off the apology as he took another bite.

"Anyhow, I wanted to also say, Hope, that I know you're going through a lot. I hope you know that I'm always here." She leaned in to him, a hand on his arm and her lips grazing his ear as she said, "For anything." Hope choked on his food, Kori smiling prettily as she spun herself around, her gown elegantly twirling around her, and sauntered away.

"What a thirsty line," Lightning groused.

"You heard that?"

Lightning served him a look. "Pretty sure the world heard that."

He could _feel_ the miffed aura wafting off of Lightning. He felt an odd sort of pride, even as his blush stained down his collar. He twirled the dainty two-pronged fork from his hors d'oeuvre between his fingers. "You're cute when you're jealous. You have the most adorable pout."

Slamming her heel down on his foot and ignoring the hiss of pain, Lightning crossed her arms. "I'm not pouting, I'm _scowling_. And I am not jealous of that princess."

"Sorry. That's the most adorable scowl," Hope amended, "that I have ever seen."

Hope looked down into her face, for once unobscured by the spikes of hair and the shadows she hid in. Hope wondered if there would ever come a time where he could know her thoughts, understand her feelings with a look alone. He longed for that closeness. He wanted to bend down, rest his lips on her forehead, let his fingers drift along her neck, her back, soak her in, this beauty that she radiated effortlessly.

His plate was set aside as he stepped closer. Lightning smelled of warmed over orange peels simmering in ginger. It was a distinct home smell, crafting a nostalgia of domesticity and safety and comfort. It settled inside of him, curled up with his soul.

"Director! Director, we were just discussing the 742 initiative." A smartly dressed man swung towards him, a swarm of followers at his heels.

_Not the time or place. Not now, at least._

* * *

It was Hope's first time amidst a crowd since he'd been taken, yet he remained steady, wrapping his greetings with a tidy, bow tie smile. He worked the room easier than Lightning would have credited him, that young, awkward, teenage mess. A state leader. Doling out handshakes and social pleasantries and kissing babies. Maybe that last one was a stretch. He was led from group to group, finishing up one conversation before an arm would direct him into another. His smile was unyielding, energy tireless and captivating. His nerves, that she knew were there, couldn't keep him down. His head remained high no matter the questions he was battered with. He stepped into the high life of a socialite with ease.

It was embittering to see Hope grown this way. As proud as she was of the man that he had become, it was hard to face the burden he held, to watch him accept the weight of their society with little resistance because he was selfless and compassionate and too good for this world. Lightning wanted to lift the weight off, slip a few hundred pounds off the bar and give Hope rest. Carry it herself.

Lightning minded herself to the side, watching, ready. That was her job. This was a job, not a date, Lightning reminded herself as Nivien closed in. As Nivien wrapped an arm around Hope's and asked for a dance in front of a gathering of guests so Hope had no chance to decline. She added, "For old time's sake," in a small, pained voice and it was settled.

The two entered the dance floor, Hope rigid until Nivien took hold of his hand and rested it along the curve of her back with a disarming smile. Their steps were fluid, pace perfect. They moved with a practiced grace that spoke of their time together. They appeared stolen from a picture book. Nivien's red gown attracted all eyes, the dress fitted to her figure, its shade complimenting her ebony skin. The sweetheart neckline was lined with black beads that curved around the top of her bosom, trailing down to curl around her left hip where Hope's hand laid. And Hope… sweet, sweet, tall and handsome Hope, all wide shoulders and wild hair and a dimpled smile. Arms that held Lightning. Hands that healed. Long fingers gentle with care. Lips that cushioned their kiss. Eyes that were labrynthinian in their depths. Lightning couldn't deny his attractiveness, how suave he seemed out there, even as she adored his awkwardness when alone with her.

Lightning found herself feeling out of place. Wrong. A thief stealing something that didn't belong to her. A dragon separating prince from princess. Was this the place that she belonged? Watching? Protecting?

A surge of possessiveness took hold, roiling Lightning's insides. She wanted to be on that floor, Hope around her, spun around by his hand. She hated dancing, had rejected Hildough's invitation forty-five minutes before. She created a boundary, wanted professionalism to rule over their relationship in public. Yet the feelings burned strong.

"I never expected to fall in love with you," Nivien said.

Lightning's ears perked. She remained a shout's distance from Hope, but Lightning kept her senses focused, her aura like a protective orb around them. Her eyes swept over any surrounding people, though her ears threaded together bits of their conversation until it pulled together.

"When we met, I thought little of you, I admit. I just thought of you as the director's son. Nothing more. But then I got to know the incredible person that you were- _are_. Intelligent, sweet, strong, determined… irresistible to every cell in my body. Truly beautiful, inside and out. I loved how we were together."

"Nivien, I-"

"I'm sorry. I know you've moved on. This really isn't fair of me."

"Nivien, let me speak. I never expected it either. To care for you as much as I did. I don't know if it was love, but it was a kindred spirit if nothing else. After all of that l'Cie stuff, and falling for... I never imagined feeling for anyone else romantically. You blindsided me-"

"Careful, Lightning, your jealousy is showing."

Her concentration broke, and the rest of the world sifted back in. The music. The din of conversation, footsteps, clinking dishware.

Lightning could have bitten Cass. Made him bleed.

"Retract the claws, kitten," Cass laughed. "Nivien is a good person. She respects relationships. And Hope would never do anything to jeopardize his future with you. You can calm down."

Lightning felt like a pufferfish coming back down to size. "You better get that hand off of my backside before I put you in your place."

"In your bed?"

"In your grave," growled Lightning.

"All right, all right." He drew his hands up in a surrender. His tie hung loosely around his neck, his suit jacket unbuttoned and shirt no longer tucked. "I don't feel like getting mauled today."

"Speaking of..." Lightning thought back. His broken face. Torn clothes. Tornadoed apartment. "Yesterday, I don't buy that party bull shit. Was it your father?"

"You give my father's rage too much credit," responded Cass, leaning back on a pillar as he crossed his arms languidly behind his head. "Doesn't matter what you buy, it was a damn good party. Unlike this one."

"A party that involves taking an ax to the walls?"

"Some people have got some _weird_ kinks." Lightning noted the usual guarded behavior, an unidentifiable gleam in his violet irises.

"Right," replied Lightning skeptically. Both of them took to watching the dance floor. Hope and Nivien. Lebreau and Maqui. Sazh and a woman Lightning had never seen before. Kori and Hildough broke apart at the end of the song. He bowed and she curtsied, drawing a tsk of amusement from Lightning. The girl seemed so far removed from reality, from the dirt and grime and blood and violence that Lightning had to go through to achieve this peace, that she inspired a humored derision in Lightning.

Cass snorted. "I take it you're not too fond of my sister?"

"I'm surprised that you two are so close. With what happened with your dad, I wouldn't blame you."

Hope dipped Nivien. She gasped as her heel caught on the floor, Hope catching her before she could fall. They shared a brief moment, in each other's space, eye to eye, lips inches from lips, before Hope spun her back into step.

"I quit holding my misfortune against Kori a long time ago. It's not her fault that she was born first. That she was the child of his wife and I his mistress. It's not her fault that she was born from love and I from lust."

Cass' sincerity caught her off guard, but was refreshing. "So the only ill will you hold is toward your father."

"In this instance, yes. The difference between my mother and my father is, to my father, I was his shame, his embarrassment. To my mother, I was her pride, her triumph, her gift..." Cass cocked a half smile her way, then bounced his brow in Hope and Nivien's direction. Lighting swung her gaze back, as if she'd missed something in that second's glance, and Cass ducked away.

Lightning watched Nivien's hands tighten on Hope. "Just one more song, Hope?"

"Nivien," Hope said, and Lightning was surprised by his tone, admonishing as if she had stepped over a line. "I'm glad we could talk like this. I really am. But this isn't my place anymore."

"And this isn't mine." Nivien looked at Lightning, catching her intruding gaze. Shame burst through Lightning like a hot flash, but she held strong, hand on the hilt of her blade by way of explanation.

The two parted. Hope looked to Lightning, gaze remorseful and penitent. Lightning could hardly let herself feel angry with those sad doe eyes. She shook her head, walking toward the side doors that led to the gardens, knowing Hope would follow. Silence swallowed them, hovering in the buds of roses, balancing on the petals of camellias and lingering in the shadows of orchids. Moonlight spilled through the clouds, tinting the gardens with a silvery hue.

"I would have preferred to dance with you. You know that."

That quickened her pulse, made it jump right into his palm before it leapt back out. "'I don't know if it was love, but it was a kindred spirit if nothing else.'" Lightning tossed his words back at him, the ones that had been corroding her thoughts like poison. Her retort was toxic and childish, but damn him those words hurt in a brutal, black and purple bruising way.

If he cared for Lightning so much, why couldn't he wait for her?

Fight for her?

Instead he fell into another woman's arms. Was his love so fickle?

She was being unfair, she knew, but she couldn't help but ask him to lick her wounds.

Hope could have acted offended, affronted, been justified in his angry gibes or taunts back. His answer was confoundedly heartfelt, lacking any venom like her toxic spew had slipped right off of him. "I care about Nivien. I won't deny that. I care for her, but not even close to as much as I care for you."

"The way you danced together…" Her throat closed in, words tumbling upon each other. This affected her so much more than it should have and Lightning wished that she hadn't come. She wished that she'd been allowed to wear her uniform, been his guard instead of drifting inside of a fantasy where they were there together.

"Friends dance, too."

"Not like that."

"Don't you trust me?"

The exasperation in his tone gave her pause, if only for a moment. "I damn sure don't trust her."

Swiftly, Hope cupped her cheek and gave her a brief, lingering kiss. It simmered there, the heat of him, boiling over her temper. "Believe me when I say that Nivien and I are over. Yes, we have history, but that's just it – history. My future, for as long as you'll allow, lies with you."

* * *

"It's not like me," Lightning said, some form of apology stumbling out of her as they rode home in Hope's car. The quiet quelled her emotions, thoughts reflecting off of the tinted windows as shadows of the city passed behind them. Zalera stayed behind at the Hall, comfortable in Jun and Arden and Sazh's company. Hope let Lightning be after that moment in the garden. _My petulant fit_ , she dubbed it. What an outlandish version of herself. Truly bizarre of her to let her jealousy fester and stampede them into a semi-public lovers' quarrel. "To be like that. I don't know why I snapped at you. I'm sorry."

"I'm not."

Lightning looked over in his direction, wishing that he would blush, stammer, look even the tiniest bit ruffled or rattled. Be the Hope that she knew. And he was. Even without the squirming, the uncertainty. In times where he was truly passionate, conveying his deepest thoughts or speaking out in bursts of moving speeches, Hope remained moored. His conviction shot through his more timid nature, a firework that demanded attention with a gut-quaking boom and a soul-stirring brightness.

"I like that you're different with me. Makes me feel special. Wanted."

Lightning could feel the tips of her ears burn. Her feelers perked in the driver's direction. She caught Dornum's glance in the rearview mirror before it swerved forward.

"I don't."

"You can open yourself up to me and know that I won't hate what I find inside."

_How do you do this? How do you always find the right words?_

"How can you know? If you don't know what's inside, how can you know that you won't hate it?"

"Because it's a part of you."

Lightning's hands gripped tight to the seat beneath her. She shifted, thighs tightly bound in her dress and her stomach feeling unfairly restricted. Uncomfortable as she was, she felt some form of equality as she sat there, dressed up beside him. The soldier and the director stood on the same platform. It was a night that Lightning had been willing to kill to end, but as they pulled into Hope's driveway, the tires crunching on gravel and the wind whispering through the leaves outside, she found disappointment in an opportunity missed.

"If you could spare a moment, Miss Lightning," came a polite rasp as she swung open her door. Dornum had turned his body around the wheel, looking back at her with a ruffled brow and whiskers twitching. "I would like to speak with you."

The man had never asked a thing of her, duty-bound and kind. Yet…

"I'll stay in sight, next to the door guards. I'll be fine." Hope replied cheerily, as if that was her only misgiving. His door clicked shut. She watched him walk away, wondering if he wasn't relieved in some way.

"May I inquire as to what this disagreement is about?"

Lightning's fingers tightened around the seat, her heels clicking together as she shifted her legs like she had a mermaid's tail. "There's no disagreement."

_Lie._

Dornum's smile indicated his insight, but was far from patronizing. "I imagine you're not one with many relationships under your belt, correct? You keep to yourself and work mostly, am I right?"

Lightning struggled not to take offense. She wanted to tell the man off, shoe his nose back out of their business. Weren't there enough people dropping hints and advice in her lap these days?

"It's nothing to be ashamed of. I ended up marrying my first girlfriend. We met and started dating when I was twenty-three. A late bloomer in society's eyes, but it was just the right time for me. We had thirty-one years of a blissful marriage. Until the fall."

Her anger evaporated. Disintegrated like ashes in water. Fingers unfurled from the fistfuls of vinyl. She refused to look away from the sliver of his sorrow that she was permitted to see. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not looking for an apology. We had our time. All I'm saying is that you shouldn't let your inexperience get in the way of what's blooming between you and Master Estheim. He's a fine young man and he'll do right by you, I can assure you of that." Dornum twisted back around, looking out the window. Lightning followed his gaze to spot Hope's glowing bush of hair. He was smiling, chatting with the guards and one clapped a hand to his back, nearly knocking him forward. "I have watched him grow into himself and his emotions, heard him speak as he settled into his own realizations about life and love. His feelings for you run deep, Miss Lightning. With all that I've had to see him suffer through, it would be nice if he had something good in his life." Dornum stood from the car with a fair share of creaking bones and popping joints, tugging open Lightning's door and standing aside. "Have a good night."

Throat tight, Lightning nodded, her chest brimming with reassurance. "Thank you."

The door closed behind them, the sound amplified in the quiet, ending the night like a punctuation point. Hope drooped at the sound, and Lightning wondered if she wasn't the only one who had been disappointed by the night's turn.

"Thank you for accompanying me," Hope said, a sigh in his voice as his fingers fumbled with his cuff links. Lightning could already hear the goodnight on his breath, see him retreating to his room. She stopped him by diving in, crashing her lips against his and kissing him with a fervor that she had denied all night.

"You're mine, Estheim. Don't forget that. I don't want to see you in another woman's arms again."

Hope beamed, kissing her back with equal passion. "Do I detect a bit of jealousy? But I thought that _thee_ Lightning Farron doesn't get jealous."

"Shut it," Lightning said, tugging his tie loose and pulling it free. She kissed at his neck, his pulse beneath her lips. Beating, racing. The sensation of it enthralled her. His hands gripped her sides, her upper arms, careful as they held the bunch of her hair to pull her back to face him.

"I never get to see this much of you." Hope's voice was a rumble travelling deep into her belly, his fingertips tracing around the curves of her face, and Lightning knew that he wasn't just talking about the openness of her face. "Am I dreaming again?" His hand held the side of her neck, his thumb brushing over her lips, back and forth, back and forth, in what was one of the most intimate, want-inducing gestures that she had ever experienced.

Lightning kissed at his thumb, took his hands to kiss across his fingers, brushing her lips across the callouses of devotion and the sharp edges of bones that spoke of unfathomable pain and isolation. Lightning shook her head against his as their foreheads met. "No. Never. Dreams are never as good as this."

Hope laughed, and Lightning could smell the sourness of raspberry on his breath, taste it lingering from his kiss. "The only thing that could make this better," Hope's eyes took on that puppyish begging look, "would be getting to dance with you."

"Hoping to show me your moves?" Lightning joked, lips puckering to the side. "From what I saw, you weren't too shabby. Your footwork could have been better, your tempo a little fast, but all in all okay."

"I didn't know I was being critiqued!" Hope ducked his head down, eyes scrunching in embarrassment. Feet shuffling. He opened the eye beneath his penciled brow, peeking at her. "I suppose you know how to dance then?"

"I was a part of a dance troupe for a brief period of time." It was Lightning's turn to be embarrassed, turning her gaze away. But Hope held her steady.

"So that's where your grace comes from. I'm impressed."

"Hmph."

Hope pecked her cheek, almost like an apology as he pried further. "Care to share a few moves with a novice like me?"

His expression was sprinkled with such excitement, his feet bouncing him where he stood, that Lightning hadn't the heart to deny him. She didn't have time to worry over the years turning her once polished techniques rusty. The flutters of embarrassment were barely a sputter in her chest. "I suppose it couldn't hurt."

Hope nabbed her hand the minute she finished speaking, whisking her away upstairs. He was quick, bounding up the steps, pulling her along and she stumbled in her dress, heels clacking clumsily behind him. He tugged her into the library, the most spacious room in the house. The heavy curtains to the window-screen were open, moonlight streaming in like a glimmering spotlight.

"Twenty-nine," Hope commanded, but the view didn't change. The beginnings of a song drifted in from the surrounding speakers. Hope bowed before Lightning, holding a hand out. "May I have this dance?"

Lightning couldn't help her chuffs of laughter. He really was too much sometimes. "Hmm. It's almost like you planned this."

"Maybe."

Lightning took his hand, pulled him in chest-to-chest close. She focused on this moment, _now_ , and every point of contact as they took their first step to the song.

_**There's one way out and no way in** _

_**Back to the beginning** _

_**There's one way back to home again** _

_**To where I feel forgiven** _

The first verse was a fumble. Getting a feel for each other. Matching rhythm and limbs and breath as they laughed at mismatched steps. It was nowhere near the ease of Nivien and Hope's dance. Lightning had to swat that insecure comparison away. Hope winced and apologized as he caught the edge of Lightning's dress, ducking his head and laughing in her ear. Lightning felt herself loosen, and Hope reigned his nerves in, and it was suddenly easy. In Hope's hold, moving along as one.

_**What is this I feel? Why is it so real?** _

_**What am I to say?** _

Green eyes glowed as they looked down at Lightning, shimmering with as much captivating, healing power as his cure. The moonlight haloed the swoop of his silver hair, and Lightning was admittedly glad that Lebreau had fixed his brow and stolen the shadow from his face. She held on tighter to a strong shoulder that carried a city, to willowy fingers that squeezed back. Unabashed. Uninhibited.

_**It's only love, it's only pain** _

_**It's only fear that runs through my veins** _

_**It's all the things you can't explain** _

_**That make us human** _

It felt almost magical. For someone who never believed in magic. She was someone who once held the power in her hands, the sensation, the reality, the gravity of magic, and still found herself in a state of disbelief. But this… this felt like magic. Bright, tingly, lighting up her chest like a strand of twinkling lights. Left her awash with childlike glee as if Santa had just come down the chimney. Christmas. Hope made her feel like a child on Christmas. Despite knowing that Santa was just a drunk in a cheap suit hired to promote consumerism, that presents weren't measured by a child's benevolence, only by the wealth of their parents, and that the decorations on a tree only prettified its death, she could still feel that wonder and magic in Hope's presence. His smile and open arms were like tinsel on the tree.

_**I am just an image of** _

_**Something so much greater** _

_**I am just a picture frame** _

_**I am not the painter** _

Castea did not exist. The l'Cie war did not exist. The New World Threat did not exist. The world itself did not exist. All that existed was the two of them as they danced together, Lightning engulfed in Hope's aura. They were two people lost in a moment, tied together by strings stronger than fate. Academia, Cocoon, the world, be damned. They could dance and pretend that they weren't dangling above a cliff by their throats.

_**Where do I begin? Can I shed this skin?** _

_**What is this I feel within?** _

Was there a name for this feeling?

Happiness.

This was what happiness felt like. Smelled like. Sounded like.

Lightning wanted to protect it. Hold it in her hand and curl her fingers around it. Place it in a locket and hang it around her neck.

Strange, so bizarre to think such dewy-eyed, painfully girlish thoughts.

Lightning, a solitary soul bent on living life on her own terms, by her own rules. The people that she loved could always bring out the impossible in her.

_**It's only love, it's only pain** _

_**It's only fear that runs through my veins** _

_**It's all the things you can't explain** _

_**That make us human, that make us human** _

_**That make us human** _

Though they had gone on a perilous journey, faced countless monsters and blood-thirsty villains, and held tremendous power that they had once thought to be myth, they were just two people bound to one another. Two people with insurmountable strength of will and heart. Two humans that overcame everything in their path by finding strength in each other.

_**It's only love, it's only pain** _

_**It's only fear that runs through my veins** _

_**It's all the things you can't explain** _

_**That make us human, that make us human** _

_**That make us human, oh, that make us human** _

The song ended and they danced to a stop. They didn't break apart, remaining still, eclipsed together. Lightning dragged the moment on, spurning reality with as much willpower as she could muster. Her head on his chest. Listening to the thrum of his life.

"You're so beautiful." Hope's awe-filled words tumbled loose.

Lightning snorted, pulling free. "Really, Estheim, what do you take me for? Has it really been that easy for you to get into a girl's pants?"

"I wasn't trying to- I was just complimenting- _Light_ ," Hope whined, taking her teasing as an affront. "What do I strike you as? Some sort of ladies' man?"

Lightning snickered, light-hearted as she began ticking off all of Hope's possible conquests. "Let's see… Nivien? Obviously. Kori?" Lightning swiped a finger against Hope's ear, ridding him of the lipstick smudge that the princess had left behind like a calling card. " _Possibly_. Alyssa? Most likely-"

"I am not a man whore," he snapped defensively, shouldering at his ear. Hope's cheeks pouched with indignant air and it was admittedly adorable. "I don't sleep with women just because they may be enamored with me. Do you really think that I would take advantage of someone like that? For your information, I haven't slept with any of them, thank you."

She couldn't keep the stun from her face. "Not even Nivien?"

"No... not even Nivien."

"You act like you regret that."

He smiled, sad but reassuring. "It's not regret, just... guilt. For stringing Nivien along and for... trying to move on... from my feelings for you."

Lightning's stomach curled into itself, feeling forever ashamed at having thoughts that travelled along the same vein. What did she expect from him? Endless devotion even before she had developed her own feelings?

"You didn't owe me anything then," Lightning asserted, articulating her words carefully, tasting their intentions in her mouth. She kicked off her heels, relishing the freedom as she flexed her toes. "Hah," she breathed. She tried to act as unaffected as possible, treading cautiously over feelings that were like glass beneath her feet. "You don't owe me anything now."

"I know," he nodded, sounding utterly unconvinced. "I know. I still… feel like I betrayed you somehow."

"Hey," she leaned in, whispering her words across his lips, "we're here now. That's what matters." She teased a kiss towards him, waiting until he closed his eyes and edged closer, before poking him in the forehead with a chuckle.

Happiness. Christmas. Magic.

Lightning felt so much in that dust-laden, moon-hued library that she wasn't sure that she could contain it. That she deserved it. It was so much. Too much.

She wanted more. Reduced to a child that made grabby hands at the cookie jar despite having already drained it of its contents. Feeling a fool by her uncharacteristic giddiness in the face of bliss. She wanted more.

And Hope was there, offering it wholeheartedly. His future. His love. The gift of himself. Her hesitance was eroding, urging her to take, take, take. Mark, mark, mark. Claim, claim, claim. Base in her desires. Feral in her want.

Was love supposed to be this destructive? This… consuming?

Lightning didn't know.

That was the scary part.

* * *

Zalera took another shift at Hope's side, overseeing his security during his string of early meetings before lunch. Lightning still felt uneasy leaving him in her care, his charred hairs and destroyed display case vivid in her mind. Hope was right, though. For all of Lightning's talk and experience, she was fallible, too. Lightning decided that she could share the responsibility, trust in others.

She stood in the stasis room, breathing in the recycled air, listening to it push through the creaky vents. The temperature was neutral, lukewarm, seeing as those that the room housed could feel nothing outside of their own fantasies. The temperature, the gusts of air, were meant only for the visitors staring into sparkling, impassive faces.

"How does it feel to always be right?" Lightning asked Serah's crystal, glancing at the door, assuring every lock was in place, the camera at her back limited to picture. "Love… does make a person happier." Lightning smiled, then relaxed the muscles of her face with a sniff. "I guess."

Serah did not answer, but Lightning imagined her face, a big, surprised smile, her body bubbling with giggles, an I-told-you-so gleam in her eyes. Her sister would glomp her with a hug, her tiny body weighing nothing in Lightning's arms.

 _"When's the wedding?"_ she could hear Serah ask.

 _"You know what this means? Double wedding!"_ Snow would shout, whooping like a buffoon.

Silence whispered over her thoughts. She looked over at a crystallized Dajh, nodding toward the boy as if it were rude not to. She wondered if Sazh had such thoughts, imaginary conversations with his son. If Hope had done the same with her.

_"You didn't owe me anything then."_

Her own regret surfaced as she thought of Hope's loneliness, his pining at the base of her crystal, standing there like she did at Serah's now, muscles growing stiff and heart growing stiffer. Hope didn't owe her anything, but maybe Lightning was the one that owed him. Lightning couldn't shake the feeling that she owed him a lot. A wealth that she did not own.

"Hello, dear," cooed a voice from behind.

Lightning whipped her gunblade out, pivoting on her heel to face-

_Oh my god…_

The woman waved with a lazy turn of her hand. Lightning kept her eyes on her, watching as she walked her way over towards Serah, placing an unwelcome hand on her sister's crystal. The woman watched back with striking gray eyes and white hair, draped in a thick, white cloak. Her features were relaxed, untroubled despite entering enemy territory and staring down an enemy soldier.

After snatching and torturing their leader.

Lightning's gun was up in a flash, her finger firing and firing and firing and firing, satisfaction in the pull, delight in the recoil as each bullet shot forth. Rage as Castea's face remained unchanged, her body unmoving despite the danger. The bullets struck against her shell, the magic a shimmering shield as the bullets disintegrated into dust sprinkling the floor.

"Oh, honey. You think your bullets can harm me?"

Lightning's lip curled and she jerked her weapon into blade mode. She took one enraged step, preparing to lunge forward, gouge her blade through that woman, but she felt her muscles seize, bones infused with a stony heaviness. She couldn't move. Her muscles strained, stretched, pushed, yet all it did was ignite panic and a helpless fury.

"Aren't you just darling?" A chuckle fell from cold lips. Everything about the woman spoke of death, her mere presence unsettling in that bone-chilling graveyard way. From pale, pale skin, to the stretch of her smile, to the intentions swirling in her storm cloud irises. "I have been waiting to meet the guardian and her pretty sister. Have to admit, I expected more of a challenge." Castea's hand came up to Serah's face, petting at the crystal with faux-fondness.

 _Get away from her, you sick bitch! Nobody touches Serah. Nobody touches Hope. I'll make you regret making an enemy of me. I just have to_ move _, dammit!_ Lightning could feel the strain in her body as she pushed against whatever ability this was. Not even her tongue would move as she cursed the woman in her mind. Sweat dripped down her temple, fatigue setting in though she couldn't summon a single motion. _I have been the fall of many, yet I cannot strike the likes of_ you _?!_

"You're fighting it." With a wolfish grin, Castea stepped closer. "Good, you act like the protector you claim to be."

Lightning's nose stung, blood dripping down from her left nostril as she strove to move, to speak, to do something. This was her opportunity to eliminate the threat. Protect Serah and Hope. Avenge Hope. Leave Castea with nightmares and panic attacks. See if this ghost could bleed.

Castea circled Lightning, a sneer on her features. "Hope's been ignoring my prodding, but I think this might be the one thing that throws him in my direction."

_I won't let you use me to get to Hope. I won't!_

"I heard that you've been asking about our time together," Castea hissed into her ear, mocking Lightning with her proximity, lips a blush against the curl of her skin. "Are you _sure_ you want to know? Because I can grant that wish."

Bony fingers settled on Lightning's forehead, touch like the caress of an icicle. They slashed against Lightning's pride, an ultimate provocation as she could do nothing to rid herself of them.

"Let's take a look."


	18. Static

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Insight is gained, a future is considered, and a new enemy strikes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a happy beaver. My FFXIII mask finally came! I get to wear my ship on my face! And that is a weird sentence, now that I'm reading it out loud…
> 
> Thanksgiving is almost here, and wow wasn't it just Halloween? One minute I'm styling my nephew's Sora wig (it looked too much like Goku out of the package) and now I'm a slave to the stove. Keeping thanksgiving small and immediate family only to follow guidlines, but still. I have to do all of the cooking myself now.

Her mind felt stuck, bogged down beneath the shore. Her sight was filled with a white foam, like the bubbly froth that headed a tide. She could smell nothing, feel nothing except this heaviness that sunk her down. The foam grew, waves crashing overhead. She drifted. Tired. She felt tired, slipping away into that ocean deep. Her pulse slowed. Her eyelids flickered.

Was this it?

Was this death?

Being swallowed up in a wave that could not be fought or controlled, only yielded to?

Above it all she could see a giant ball of red and orange and purple rising higher and higher in a burgeoning sunrise. The colors bled, cool, yet vibrant.

There was enough light to fill the world.

Light.

_"Light."_

"Light!"

There was a twittering chirp sound, followed by the guttural yawn of a foghorn like she had been swept up onto the shores of a lighthouse. She hadn't. Lightning could feel herself, crouched down, hands clenched around her ears, blood dripping onto her boot. She was in the stasis room, with its metal floors and walls and ceiling, its recycled, lukewarm air and the living reminders of her failures and hopes. The Academy alarm was sounding. Boots trampled around her. Words. Words were being spoken.

"…geant? Sergeant, -re you…?"

She was being moved. Side to side. Shaken.

"Some… medic in he-…"

"…happened?"

"The threat? I don't… vanished… radar."

"…'am? Ma'am? Sergeant?" Branches broke above her. No. There were no branches in the stasis room. Snapping. There was snapping. Fingers were in her face. "… to help… okay? Nod… understa-."

Lightning tried to bob her head forward and back. She didn't know if it worked.

"Sergeant!" Another person, loud in her ear. "What… to you? …describe…-ttacker…"

"Step back! ...condition to speak…"

"We need to know the situation! The director could be in danger."

_Hope…_

"Are we sure the intruder isn't still in the building?"

"You think there was only one?"

"Get out of my way so I can help her. You can _interrogate_ her all you want after I am through."

Words were beginning to sift together, full sentences congealing. Faces became clearer, edges of bodies and objects sharpening. The words swirled. Orders and questions and whispers and warnings, they were chaotic and nauseating. "Shut up," Lightning could hear herself utter, a scream in her throat that came out like a mouse's squeak.

"What happened?"

"I need more men on the perimeter, now!"

"Why hasn't she moved?"

"Is that… blood?"

"Vale! Dreifus! I need this building cleared. Put an evacuation order in place. All rooms are to be searched. They can't have gotten far."

"Sergeant Farron, can you-"

"Shut up!" Lightning shouted, and this time it roared over everyone else. The room tipped and turned and tilted. Her body fell forward. She didn't try to stop her fall. Maybe the waves would catch her.

"Light!"

Something caught her. Someone. Green. All she could see was green.

"Hope?"

"Hey. Hey, there." His voice was unsteady. Rife with concern.

It made her want to wretch.

"Director. You were to stay put."

_Ah. There's a booming voice I can recognize._

"What if this was a distraction?" Amodar asked. Lightning could hear his anger, knew his tolerance for disobedience. "They could be after you."

"Then I guess you all better work to guard me then," Hope snapped back. "I'm not leaving her. That's final."

Lightning blinked at the authority in Hope's voice, sitting up in his arms. People surrounded them. Soldiers, guards. Zalera stood warily behind Hope. "Get your ass to safety, Hope," Lightning commanded.

"You first," he parried. Turning his eyes away, Hope looked to his security crew. "Status report? Wait. How did this start?"

The group fidgeted under Hope's stare. Then a finger poked uncertainly into the arm of a petite brunette. She jolted with a squeak.

"Officer Mires?"

"U-Um. I'm in charge of section 3-32 of the monitors. That… i-includes room 402. I saw Sergeant Farron talking… heatedly? with a woman and passed it off as a quarrel. Farron pulled her weapon. She fired. Then she stopped. She wasn't moving. The other woman-"

"The unidentified intruder," Amodar corrected.

"R-Right. The unidentified intruder came closer. I could see the sergeant's distress. When she started bleeding, I gave the signal. My superior sounded the a-alarm. He recognized the intruder."

"Castea," Zalera rasped.

Hope's hold tightened on Lightning, near bruising. "Finish the evacuation. Clear any civilians along the perimeter. Comb every inch of the building. If she's anywhere within the area, I want her found. NO ONE make a move. You see her, call it in. She's far too dangerous to take on."

Soldiers scattered in response to Hope's booming command. Lightning could feel the rumble of it through his chest, along with the shaking of his spine. The room drained out, and Lightning could breathe, an unexpected spike of claustrophobia easing.

"She's gone," Zalera asserted, looking down at the two of them. Her chakrams were in her hands, ready despite her words. "She accomplished what she set out to do." She met Lightning's eyes, and Lightning caught her meaning. They kept Sebastian's attack from Hope, but Castea found a way to use her all the same. Zalera shook her head, stalking off after the rest of the soldiers.

"Be okay," Hope whispered, almost to himself. He held Lightning closer, when it was just them, sitting alone. She could feel his lips on her scalp, his chin in her hair. Whispers of comfort.

Lightning hissed a breath as she held her head, sitting forward.

_Get yourself in shape, Director_ , Lightning thought to tease. To pry the worry and fear from his features.

She couldn't get the words out past the glob of emotions clogging her throat.

"Castea…" Hope's eyes searched along Lightning's body. His hand felt along her face, but was denied with a tilt of her head away from him. Hope swallowed, and it sounded so loud in that empty room. "Did she…? Are you…?" He couldn't seem to settle on a course of conversation. His voice was crackly. Gone was the stern toughness of a leader. In front of her was the lost boy that had her back despite his fear. "It's my fault. I'm so-."

"No… apologies."

"I-"

"I swear, Hope... if you apol- apologize to me, I'm gonna hit you." Lightning made to stand. She stumbled, unsteady. Hope's hands reached to assist. Lightning slapped them away. "I'm fine. Let me… do this."

Hope relented, unhappily. He stayed by her, waiting in case she needed him. She always needed him. "She won't get away with this," Hope declared, chest puffed out, determination igniting a green fire in his eyes.

"No, she won't. That's for sure."

"You want to tell me what happened?" His tone was soft, hiding the command in a question.

"Nothing."

"Lightning."

"Honestly. I couldn't- It was nothing."

"Sergeant Farron."

_Don't you Sergeant Farron, me. Not after what you've kept from me._

But he had every right to know. As their commander. As the target.

"It was black. That's all I can tell you. She made it so I couldn't move and then… shut down my mind, or something. That's all. One moment, I was talking to her. The next, I was being bombarded by alarms. That's it. Nothing."

Hope's skeptical gaze traveled over her, then the room. "Then why do you look so…"

_Pissed? Terrified? Nauseous?_

"…unbalanced?"

"How am I supposed to look? I couldn't get a hit on her. Not one. I told you that I would… I swore that I would… It doesn't matter now."

"How can it not?"

"She wants _you_! She's using me to get to you." Lightning ran a hand beneath her nose, wiping at the crusting blood. She spat some of it to the side. "It won't work. I don't care what she throws at me. She _will not_ have you."

Hope's expression hardened. "You can't make my decisions for me."

"I damn well can. When it comes to your safety and well-being, I can. Now…" Lightning rolled her shoulders back, kicked her boots down on the ground one at a time, finding her footing. "Stay with your guards. Be with Zalera and Amodar. I can trust them. I need… to recalibrate, or something like that."

"You shouldn't be alone."

"I won't be," Lightning lied. Alone was exactly what she needed. It was what she got as she stood in the middle of her living room, unmoving, staring at the lamp on her side table. Her skin felt cold, wet, like she was still being swept beneath the tide.

_"Please…"_

Lightning could feel the terror in that word. Quaking through her chest, cascading down her spine.

_"…don't do this… please…"_

_Hope was laying on a stone slab, bound and bleeding. There were tear tracks evident on Hope's dirty cheeks. Tears that had long since dried up, replaced with dry, desperate pleas from scabbing lips. The binds were tight on his body, tight enough that it was difficult to tell where Hope ended and the leather began, nearly fused into his skin. His body was caked with blood, wounds oozing pus and burns that had bubbled the skin. Left untreated, the wounds shifted with Hope's movement, causing him to shriek in excruciating pain._

_Sebastian stood over Hope, surveying his work, tool in hand. Sebastian held his knife like it was an artist's brush, a cherished instrument ready to unfurl his imagination. Sebastian looked at Hope like he was his canvas. The knife edged closer, and Sebastian leaned down, eyeing Hope's brutally burned, infected chest. With fascination in Sebastian's eyes, dread in Hope's, the blade whispered through the yellow ooze until it sunk in, filleting Hope's skin._

_Hope screamed._

Lightning's stomach heaved as she emptied it into the toilet before her. She gripped onto the seat, forehead kissing porcelain, losing the contents of her breakfast as the memories coursed through her brain like they were her own. Castea had asked her if she wanted to know, and now she did. Lightning witnessed dozens of moments just like that one. They shredded her previous pleas for knowledge apart.

It was real now. No more mystery. No more wonder. Hope had been right about the knowledge increasing her guilt. It drew her into herself, her body curling up against the shower doors.

_Are you happy now? You know. You got to see what happened to the man that you claim to care for but can't protect. You can't even protect yourself._

Swiftly, Lightning turned, her fist harshly connecting with the wall behind her. Her punch barely left a dent in the tile, but she could feel the popping of her knuckle, watched the blood seep through the finger holes of her gloves. It stung, but it didn't matter. Her own pain was irrelevant.

It always was.

* * *

Hope remained confused in the wake of Lightning's departure. She had just been attacked, left injured, dazed, yet she stalked off by herself. A wounded tiger ready to-

_What? Die alone?_

_Lightning can't die. She's invincible._

_She's human._

Her face had been softened by vulnerability, dampened by despair as she laid in his arms. Hope couldn't guess at what transpired to let Castea put that look on Lightning's face. Hope wanted to follow Lightning, have her back like he was always supposed to.

But… did he have a right to? Wasn't this his fault?

"This can't continue."

Amodar, Rygdea and Hope all sat in Hope's office, waiting on a status report of the search. Hope had already given up on waiting, knowing that there was nothing to find. Castea was gone, no trail left unless she wanted them to find it. The cameras would see nothing, the soldiers would find nothing unless Castea wanted them to.

"I think we all share that sentiment, Hideo," Rygdea replied softly, and it was a rarity to hear Amodar's given name used. "The only question we face is how to stop this."

"Castea can get to anyone," Hope murmured, his thumb swiping across the photo frame on his desk. "Anyone."

Amodar ran a hand down his face, fingers tugging tiredly at pudgy cheeks. "It's a security issue and an intel issue, but no matter this woman's abilities we can't allow her to continue her activities, whatever they may be. Her attacks will only escalate."

_Escalation._

Hope turned in his chair, gazing out through the blinds to see the city. If this continued, more people would get hurt and killed. Families would be torn apart. Parents left childless. Children orphaned. A home destroyed. Destinies forever changed. "And the past repeats itself." There were no good answers. No good solutions. "The only strategy we have is to stall. We don't have enough knowledge about Castea, her group or her fal'Cie. We have no idea where their hideout is. We lack any form of control. With our less than stellar military might, I doubt we could stand a chance in a head-on battle. Stalling is our only option."

"What good'll that do?" Rygdea asked.

"There isn't another way," Amodar agreed. "We have to endure everything these mongrels throw at us until we attain more information."

_Find their weakness and take them out. Everyone has a weakness, right? Even her…_

"I have Maqui and Cass leading a research team," Hope said, swiveling back toward the two. "They will comb through all books, scrolls, files, anything that may help us understand and fight this threat."

"If there isn't a way, what then?" inquired Rygdea. Hope could feel the man's eyes glued to his forearm, staring far past his coat sleeve to the core of their problem. Did Rygdea have to do this? Did he have to question everything and make Hope consider a future that he had no hope of preventing?

"Then I shall comply, and find their weakness from the source."

"Very well." Amodar stood and held up a hand in front of Rygdea's horrified face, halting his protests. "You and Sergeant Farron are to take the next few days off. Let us tighten up security and allow you two to get your heads straight."

Amodar held himself tall, throwing his weight onto Hope as more than just a general, but as a concerned friend. His stiff, unyielding posture said that he expected a fight. Hope could see in the man's concentrated gaze that he was ready to go a few rounds to win, verbally, physically, if he had to. Though, it wasn't Amodar's place to order him around and challenge Hope's authority. At best, this was a stern request.

"It's expected," Hope admitted. "Lightning and I are the ones in the most danger. Plus, she's not in the right frame of mind right now. Light's fury can focus her and increase her viciousness in battle, but it can also blind her from rational decisions. I... I'm no better."

"You two will remain in the Estheim estate. I have increased the men around your home as well as doubled the night patrols around the city. After Farron is done giving her statement, the two of you will be escorted home."

Hope scowled, a retort on his lips that was something like, 'We don't need any more blood on our hands,' but Amodar swept the predictable objection away.

"Let your people protect you, for once."

Hope's jaw worked, biting back words that were useless. Facing Amodar was worse than facing Rygdea or his father. The two of them were weak to Hope's conviction. Hope held the ability to sway them if he wanted to, debate them into seeing his way. With Amodar, it was like facing a wall.

"It won't matter." The cushions of Hope's office chair sighed as he lifted himself up. He set the photo down, placing it back into its dust shadow. "Castea will go after anyone to get to me. Lightning is extremely effective, but she's not the only one that I care about. Castea has a human arsenal that she can use against me - all of NORA, Nivien and Olly, Cass and his family, you, Rygdea, Sazh, Jun and Arden. I only pray that we find something before she strikes again."

* * *

Hope let the wind swing him gently, feeling the crispness of the air on his face, the warmth of the tea in his hands. He looked out over the garden, bees buzzing, trees grown tall. The city beyond it wasn't much different. Busy people with buildings high above their heads. A world sheltered, carefully preserved, yet fragile. One big boom could wipe it all out. Or just one tap at its weakest point could tumble it all down like dominos. Hope was tired of watching the world fall apart.

He was tired of losing his most precious people.

There was a flash of light, the turn of the glass door catching the sun's sleepy rays. Lightning stepped out, tugging her purple jacket close. "Forced vacation," Lightning griped, though she had already shed her uniform, transitioned into a civilian. "They need all the manpower they can get and they keep us on the sidelines."

"Got to love upper management. Even you have to respect orders from the higher ranks."

Lightning side-eyed him. "Speaking of…"

"Nope. No." Hope took a sip, though his amusement at the prospect of being used for his position caused the tea to tease down the wrong tube. "I agreed to this. No pulling rank on my part. Not today."

Lightning shifted, bracing herself against the wind as she twisted her lips to hide her smile. "Then what good are you?"

"I'm a good body warmer," Hope suggested, lilting his voice as he lifted the quilt from his shoulder, inviting her onto the porch swing beside him. Lightning looked over at the guards, their eyes conveniently shifted away. "I had to agree to their company. Wouldn't let me out here otherwise. Don't worry, they'll never tell."

Lightning's smile turned rueful, "And what, exactly, would there be to tell?" but she gave, much to Hope's delight.

He could have squealed, _if_ he was that sort of person. He had wished for something like this in his younger years, a taste of the quiet life, porch-swinging in the evening beside her. The swing creaked, stopping as she sat a decent distance from him. He scooted closer, wrapping the other side of the blanket around her shoulder. Lightning grasped the edge of the quilt, then the fingers holding it. She let go, expression folding to thoughts that were out of Hope's reach.

Hope set his cup to the side before sitting back. One foot pushed them into motion. He turned to her with a cautious, "Talk to me, Light."

The usual crease situated itself between her brows. She closed her eyes slowly, opening them to look up at the sky with a sigh and a half-smile that said that she should have expected this. "You're looking at me like I need to unload something. I don't."

"Okay… then why were you so scared?" Hope could feel Lightning stiffen. He questioned his eyes as he could have sworn that she'd turned two shades paler.

"Scared?"

"You were terrified. Castea… She had to have done something to you to put you in that state."

Lightning crinkled her nose into something of a snarl. "Being rendered immobile isn't enough?"

"I didn't mean-"

"Being threatened, having my sister's and your life threatened isn't enough? Facing how useless I am isn't enough?" Lightning tore herself from his hold, turning herself to face him and the swing squawked at the sudden movement. Anger scrunched her features, but her voice turned brittle. "Having to see… having to speak to the woman who took you and… That isn't enough?"

Hope swallowed. He tried to tuck her back against him, but she shook her head. "I'm sorry if I'm prying. I like how open you've been with me lately. I got a little spoiled."

Lightning's head dropped with her shoulders, her laughter light as she looked back at him. "I hate you, you know that? Always with the charming words and the suave smile."

"I try." Hope shrugged.

"Cheeky bastard."

Lightning sat forward, her elbows on her knees. She reverted back to that mechanical voice she used when revealing the pieces of her past. "I was... afraid, yes. I've always been afraid when faced with the enemy. Before, I always thought of Serah. I didn't want to die and leave her alone, or become too injured to protect her and provide for her. I even feared Snow. He was someone that I couldn't keep Serah from. I couldn't control what his life would do to hers. I couldn't protect her from the pain that he would bring her… As I began to care for you, I feared the same. I worried that I would leave you alone, lost, defenseless…"

"You fear for the sake of others, not for yourself."

"Doesn't everyone?" Lightning asked, leaning back, unaware of how much her words stung him.

"You should fear your own death, Lightning. For your sake, as well as ours. You should want to live because you want to see us. Because you want to be with us." He couldn't control the hurt that crossed his face, how it twitched in every muscle in his body and drew him away from her. "To be with me."

Lightning blinked back at him, confused. "That's not what I meant-" But Hope was already standing, snagging his tea cup. "Hope."

"Yes, you did, but that's fine. I shouldn't have expected anything else."

* * *

_The musty air hit her first. Then the stench, blood and rot and something like death. There was darkness ahead of her, the walls cold and damp. It was like a cave, her steps echoing. She kept one arm over her face to block the odor, the other reached out, fingers stretching to feel along the walls. There was one lone flame at the end of the tunnel, far ahead. She walked toward it, each step sinking her gut like a stone._

_It felt like hours passed as she kept walking. The flame never got closer. It sat there, mocking her. She could almost hear it laughing at her vain attempt._

"You're fighting it."

_Lightning jerked to a stop. Her hand went to her side, but she was unarmed. She looked back, forward. Nothing but the torch._

"Good, you act like the protector you claim to be."

_"You want me to go for the torch, don't you?" Lightning yelled, her own words bouncing back at her. "Then I'll sit here. I'll do nothing! I will not move to your tune!"_

_A scream tore through the air, a shrill, pained cry and Lightning recognized it as if it had been her own. "Serah!" Lightning ran without hesitation, throwing caution to the wind as Serah kept screaming. The torchlight flickered out just as Lightning reached it. The cries ceased. It was just Lightning and the darkness. "Serah?"_

_A coarse laugh answered. A flame flickered to life, perched atop Sebastian's finger. He was facing away from Lightning, hovering over a girl that was bound in front of him. He drew a knife, so long, so familiar, and held it in front of him, out of Lightning's sight. Lightning could hear a whimper._

_"Serah!" Lightning ran to her, but stopped. It was not her sister. It was Yeul._

_Torches lit around the room, bathing it in an orange glow. Lightning could see the tables. Blood. Severed limbs. Puddles of gunk. It was… the most horrific sight that she had ever seen._

_"You know what to do. What to say to make this all go away, little Yeul." Sebastian's words slithered from his lips as he began to scrape the blade against her skin. Yeul squirmed, her teeth grating, but she shook her head. Something metal clinked to the floor, rolling toward Lightning's foot. A headband of some sort? Yeul screamed again, drawing Lightning's gaze back as Sebastian cut deeper. Yeul still wouldn't speak._

_Lightning almost wanted her to._

_What good were her visions? What good was her connection to Etro? What good was any of it if she had to endure this?_

_Sebastian clicked his tongue, but he hardly looked disappointed. "There are other ways to get it out of you. As I'm sure you know by now."_

_Yeul's eyes widened, her head snapping to the side._

_"Get your filthy hands off of me. Unhand me, you beast!" A heavy thump was heard before Zalera was dragged into the room, her eyelids open lazily as blood dripped down her forehead._

_Lightning had to stop this. She could not just stand there unmoving and unnoticed forever. Lightning was going to run to Zalera's aid, free Yeul, kill these monsters with her bare hands if she had to, but she couldn't move. She couldn't speak._

_She could only witness._

_"Please, please don't," Yeul begged as Zalera was lifted up and strapped down. Sebastian grinned, dropping his fire in favor of the thunder spell that danced on his fingertips._

_Lightning knew what was coming. Unable to watch the strike, Lightning slammed her eyelids shut. There was a flash of light before her closed eyes, bright, loud, crackling, followed by a scream that ripped her eyes back open._

_It was not Yeul or Zalera that had screamed._

_It was Hope._

_Hope laid a jittery mess in the aftermath, his teeth clicking and limbs shivering. There were cuts open and bleeding. His neck was bruised and burned, the skin a shoddy patchwork of purple and red. Knife ready, Sebastian tore into Hope like a child ripping open a present. Sebastian would heal it all up, just to find a new way to tear him open again._

_Through it all, Lightning stood there_

_and watched._

_As time drew on, Hope's spirit grew tired. His cries became less frequent, his torture seemingly less effective. Castea stood over him now. "This is what happens when you leave him. When you let him fall right into my hands." She sneered at Lightning, her presence suddenly apparent. "I've never left him. Not once. I've stayed by his side since I had him in my grasp. At least I'm loyal."_

_Lightning watched as Castea's hand dove into Hope's chest, gripping tightly onto his heart. Castea grinned, wide and proud. She was going to pull out his heart. She was going to kill him._

_In that last moment, Lightning closed her eyes and heard,_

_"Light!"_

Lightning woke. Her heart thundered inside of her chest, its rhythm quaking throughout her body. She slowly sat up, not trusting her stomach, and looked over her room. Quiet. Dark. She felt a strange urge to turn on all of the lights. Instead she fled to Hope's room.

He was asleep when she entered. He seemed peaceful, breathing easy, expression slack, body relaxed. Lightning felt her body deflate against the door frame.

Lightning understood now. Hope's pain. His terror. His guilt. His shame. His need to move on. She understood and as difficult as Hope's torture was to face, she would willingly put herself through it again. The cost was worth the gain.

Now Lightning could help Hope struggle forward. Hope's torture was over. He was attempting to move past it. He was doing his damnedest to leave his captivity in the past in favor of striving to create a better future. His torture didn't define him, it only made him stronger and more determined to save the world. He was letting it go, and Lightning would have to, too. She couldn't keep asking, needling, or apologizing. She would only be forcing him to remember. She would be no better than Castea.

As sure as she was of this, of her conviction, of him, Lightning could feel the stir of her emotions. They pulled her toward him, made her want to heal what was no longer there. She perched herself on the edge of his bed, letting the moonlight guide her sight. Hope was laying on his stomach, his arms holding his pillow close, face turned towards her. His expression was serene, free of the haunts that latched onto her now. He was in his usual sleep attire, the top of his navy blue sweats barely visible above his covers. His back was left bare, and Lightning wondered if it had always been so broad, a muscled expanse that she could run her fingers over. She allowed herself a moment to admire the body of the man that Hope had grown into before dropping her gaze.

_He's still here. He's safe. You won't let him go again._

_Ever._

Lightning laid herself down at his side, mindful not to jostle as she slipped beneath the bedding. She slid closer, leeching his warmth, feeling his breath, nuzzling her nose down beneath his armpit, and let herself follow Hope into dreamland.

* * *

Morning came with the sun's searchlight glare hitting Hope in the face. He liked waking with the sun, joining the world as it crept back to life, but sometimes mornings were hard, following difficult days and stressful events. Hope sunk back into bed as he thought about his handling of the situation between him and Lightning. It wasn't a fight, per se, but he could feel the tension between them after that, an overeager toddler bouncing between them, begging to be acknowledged.

Hope shifted, wanting to turn himself so the lamp shaded the sun from view.

But there was a lump in the way.

A body-shaped lump.

A gorgeous lump.

Pink tendrils dribbled down his shoulder, the ends tickling beneath his chin. Her forehead was pressed against his shoulder, her body flush against his side where he could feel the warm softness of her, every razor-sharp edge polished smooth. One of her legs was between his own, her toes curled against his calf.

Hope didn't move, breath restrained in his chest as his brain sputtered at the situation. Lightning was sleeping in his bed. She was on top of him, clinging to him. Did he time travel into one of his teenage fantasies? Hope dared to touch, to be sure. His fingers fanned out on Lightning's arm, finding fine hairs and porcelain skin. Back in their l'Cie days, Hope loved the way Lightning looked when she slept. That hadn't changed. The lack of awareness left such a vulnerability upon her features, untroubled by her prideful thoughts and soldier composure.

Again, Hope wished that he could read her features. He would have been able to tell the story of her dream by her parted lips, the drifting of her eyes beneath her lids, the hitch of breath in her throat, and the way the muscles in her cheek twitched. He wondered if she was dreaming of Serah, of simpler times.

Hope thought of Lightning's sister every now and then. He wondered if Serah would approve. If she would accept Hope into the family like a brother. Hope smiled at the thought. He kind of always wanted a sister. Would Lightning want that? Would she want to share her sister with him?

Would she want him in her family?

Hope disentangled himself from Lightning, careful to extract his elbow from her grasp. Hope sat, in the burgeoning light of day, and pondered his own future. What he wanted. Where he would go. There was a world out there, staring him in the face, threads of destiny pulling him forward. He could feel the tug in his muscles, little fibers sinking into his cells. He needed to move, continue forward. Cocoon, their cradle in the sky, was waiting on him. Fang and Vanille remained trapped until he could get himself in gear. Life was passing Serah, Snow, and Dajh by as Hope floundered to find a cure for stasis. Gadot and Olly were still missing.

There was too much to do. Lives depended on him, yet what was he doing?

Hope stretched his arms up, high up on his tip-toes until there was a satisfying _pop_. He dropped himself, nodding as he quietly gathered his clothing for the day. Lightning remained a sleeping mystery. He had no idea why she snuck into his room and slept in his bed.

Did she not trust him to stay?

Did she think he was too weak to remain alone?

Hope didn't doubt it.

A whisper in his inner ear told him that this was a good thing. A step forward, but Hope remained wary.

It seemed that every step forward led to two steps back.

* * *

_Gadot looked down at little radiant, smiling faces. Ruffling Roxanne's pigtails. Laughing at Kyson's gap-toothed grin. Receiving a play-doh figure from Aranea. All of these beautiful children at his feet, clamoring against his knees. Orphans. They were like cherished siblings to Gadot. He visited them whenever he could, protected them and society from injustice with NORA. Gadot wanted to keep his family safe._

_But one by one the smiles fell away. The children wilted like vibrant flowers dulling in winter. They fell to the floor with soft thumps as their bodies met carpet. Gadot called out to them. He reached for them, but came back with nothing but a handful of sparkling dust._

_They were gone._

_Cocoon had swallowed them up._

_The realization broke something in Gadot's mind._

He woke from the dream, a repetitive world that played the days over and over. Something released him, a calling that made him resist this forged replica of his life. He needed to get back to NORA.

Lebreau.

Maqui.

Yuj.

Snow.

The kids…

They were trapped, just like Snow.

Gadot's body failed to move, unbending to his will. His eyes took note of golden light that glittered through the stone around him. There were bodies around him. His comrades. Were they-?

"Ah, ah, ah," a female voice, redolent with confidence and pride broke across his observations. Bright gray eyes filled his vision. "It's not nice to sneak peeks. Back to bed with you, wandering child." Fingertips rolled his eyelids back in place.

_"Gadot! Gadot!" Aranea called. She held up her mushy figure with a smile that rounded her tiny cheeks. "Guess what I made you."_

_"For me!" Gadot boomed his voice across the room so all of the kids could hear. "I always wanted an alien giraffe!" There were a bunch of giggles._

_"It's a puppy!" Aranea pouted._

_Gadot gasped. "My bad, little dude," he said as he pet its lopsided head. "I'll call you Aranea."_

_"Hey, that's my name."_

_"Oh my gosh! My puppy turned into a little girl."_

_Aranea played along, wiggling her but like she had a tail. "Ruff. Ruff."_

_Something squirmed in Gadot's mind. He was supposed to do something. It was important._

_"I wanna be a puppy!" Kyson shouted._

_"Me, too."_

_"Woof. Woof."_

_"Arf!"_

_Gadot forgot what that something was._

* * *

Hope was gone from the bed when Lightning stirred. It induced a split-second wave of panic, for Lightning was not a light sleeper. How Hope was able to leave her side so easily… She felt a flash of heat, bursting up her body. She was going to have to explain her presence here, wasn't she? After returning to her room to ready for the day, Lightning found Hope in his office. He was sitting forward, hunched over the giant tome that was _Fabula Nova Chrystallis_. Nose to the grindstone, his gloved fingers parsed over line after line, before slipping his middle finger over the corner to turn a crackling page.

Lightning wasn't too fond of this room. It smelled of old wood and books and the sweat of someone who worked themselves to the bone. Lightning wasn't sure if that was Bartholomew or Hope leaving their imprinted ghost behind. Seeing Hope hyper-focused, unaware of anything but ancient words, caught in the map of his thoughts that Lightning couldn't hope to follow, mellowed the eeriness of his office. This was where Hope was most true to himself, a brainiac with a radiant mind following his heart and soul as he worked to better the lives of others. Hope looked the most beautiful when he followed his heart.

"Morning," Lightning spoke in greeting, unsure if his failure to respond was because of his concentration or their break in discussion from the day before. "Still searching for answers in that book of yours?"

"Yup," Hope replied, distracted, yet he still managed to hit the forced notes of petulance. "It's the only way that I can help right now."

As entrancing as watching him work was, it was also aggravating to watch someone who worked without thought for themselves. Missing meals. Spurning sleep. Stiffening their posture and forgetting exercise. Hope had a disastrous habit of putting everyone else first, and Lightning didn't acknowledge the lessons that Hope may have sponged from her. "Anything new?" Lightning placed her hands on the desk, leaning on bouncing fingers.

"Not yet."

Lightning felt a tick in her brow. Without much thought, she snatched the book from its place, slamming it shut.

Hope stared at the empty space, as if his mind lagged at the loss. His gaze traveled up to her, then the book. "Give it back."

"I think we need to discuss some things."

"Lightning."

"Oooh, scary. My full name." Lightning sat in the chair across from Hope, ignoring his outstretched arm.

"Give. me back. the book."

"No."

Hope's arm shook, his hand fisting there in the air, before it fell with his sigh. "Haven't I had enough of my rights taken from me? Clearly, even reading is a luxury that I am not allowed to enjoy. What, Lightning? What is so important to discuss that you have to- to… _punish_ me this way?"

"Yesterday… I didn't mean what you thought I meant."

"Forget about it. It wasn't important."

"I think it was important."

Hope paused, his jaw cocked to the side, expression considering. He did not respond.

"I'm… new to this. I've never cared for someone like this before and I really do care about you. You know that, right?"

A beat. "Yeah?"

"As a soldier, we're taught that we're expendable to the greater purpose that we are fighting for. When I started out I accepted that because... because I already found my life expendable."

"That's- You're life is not worth any _greater purpose_ -"

"Serah changed that view. When I was laying in that bed after my first mission, my abdomen shot up, knowing that I narrowly escaped death, I began to think of Serah. I thought about what would have happened to her if I wasn't there. Serah would have been left without a home or a guardian. She would have had nothing because of me." Lightning still felt like kicking herself, imagining leaving that smile, those precious hands of her sister's that used to cling to her own. She thought of their home being sold, boxes packed up, all of Serah's little stickers being scraped off of the walls. Serah standing alone in an orphanage, her favorite plush Domo under her arm and her shoelaces untied.

_It wouldn't have been the worst_ , Lightning thought. _She probably would have had Snow there. Been made the princess protected by his band of NORA brats._

"From then on, I lived for Serah. During the l'Cie fiasco, I lived for our team." Lightning could feel her affection manifest on her face, tugging at the corners of her lips. She didn't know when she began to smile so much. So openly. "I lived for you."

Hope struggled, to find the right words, the right expression, conflicted. His hands toyed with a pen, his father's, platinum and etched with a name that meant everything in their new world. "Lightning…"

"I never thought about living for me. I didn't consider my future." She shifted in her seat, fidgeting in a way that she had trained herself not to. So long ago, under Amodar's strict gaze. "I never thought that I would have one. My job was all I had and truthfully I figured it would kill me someday. The future wasn't something that I looked toward." Lightning's eyes traced the curled symbols on the book's cover, its contents a telling of destiny. As much as they had fought against the trappings of fate during their time as l'Cie, it was almost comforting to think that destiny had placed her there, in Hope's office, sitting across from him. She could think that destiny gave him to her. "But maybe... with you that will change."

The pen fell from Hope's stunned-still hands, rolling to a stop against a stack of neon-colored sticky notes. His face was the picture of astonished, but not in a bad way. "You… You don't know how happy that makes me."

"I think I have an idea."

Excitement skittered across Hope's face, but he squashed it the next moment, suddenly serious. "We have to work to attain that future, first."

"True."

Hope took a breath, standing with gumption. "I can't just sit here." And left the room.

"Wait. What?" Lightning jumped from her seat, leaving the dusty, mildew-stained book behind. She caught up to him at the bottom of the staircase. "What do you mean? We're stuck here. Forced vacation, remember?"

"Uh-huh," Hope said, his tone the equivalent of an eye roll. "I'm the director. I need to be out there, protecting people, saving as many lives as I can. I'm no good to them here." Hope untucked his boots from beneath the entryway bench and sat, shoving them on.

How had she not noticed that he was already dressed in his uniform?

"Think about it, Light. I'm the reason that everyone is in danger. It's my responsibility to take care of the threat no matter how you look at it."

"Orders are orders, Hope." Lightning knelt down in front of him, stealing the laces from his hands. "You can't just disobey them when you please."

"Is that you or the soldier talking?" Lightning glared at him for that. He remained unperturbed, jerking his foot away from her and taking his laces into his hands. His movements were rife with frustration, the laces ripping loudly through the holes. "I'm sorry, but I won't lounge around and let more people fight and die for me."

Hope stood, but Lightning held him back with a hand to his chest. "You're working yourself too hard already. I can't keep watching you do this to yourself."

"Then don't," Hope shot back.

"I'm your guard. I will protect you from everything, including yourself."

Something flashed in Hope's eyes, his spine straightening as he shoved her away from him. It wasn't hard enough to hurt her, but it was imbued with enough force to stun her out of shock. "Stop it. Quit acting like you only exist to keep me alive. I know you're my 'personal guard' and all, but I can protect myself. What if I wanted to protect you, huh? What would you say?"

"I'm not some damsel in distress, Hope."

"And I'm not some cowering kid, either." Hope reached for the doorknob, throwing the door open to where it slammed against the wall.

Lightning raked a hand through her hair, stomping after him. Why didn't he _understand_? Why couldn't he realize what was at stake, what could happen to him, and how it would affect the world?

How it would affect her.

Lightning was ready to physically hold him back if she had to. She would have, but there was a lilting whistle in the air, a glint of something in the sky. "Get down!" Lightning yelled, but it was too late.

It struck Hope so fast that Lightning couldn't identify the object or see where the initial penetration occurred. The sheer speed of the object sent Hope flying back through the entrance of his home until he was sprawled out on the floor. Hope choked back a cough, hands scrambling to stem the bleeding in his abdomen. An arrow stuck out like a flag, feathers black and white.

Lightning's eyes scanned for anyone, anywhere, but with the trajectory she doubted that she would be able to see the vantage point of the attacker. She shouted at the guards, sending them out in their direction, and turned to Hope. Blood was already pooling beneath him, turning the blue rug a dirty purple. She brushed away Hope's shaking hands, replacing them with the firm hold of her own to apply pressure. Hope hissed, his head thumping back on the ground. Lightning gripped the arrow, starting a mental countdown to rip it out so Hope could heal himself.

"No!" Hope took hold of Lightning's wrist. His eyes seemed to white out they were so wide. "I know this type of arrow. Pulsian. Southern Stratos Tribe origin." His voice was strained, coarse, but assertive. "It... injects poison slowly upon penetration."

"Then let me get it out."

A guard came in then, stern-faced, his gun trigger-ready. "Director, are you-"

"Call a med team," urged Lightning.

Hope put a shaky hand on top of Lightning's, gaining her attention. "If you pull that out, the tip will be dislodged and the rest of the poison will be injected into my system. I'll... die in seconds."

* * *

Zalera zoomed after her target, bounding from tree to tree to keep up, but careful to keep her pursuit from being detected. She watched the attack from her perch outside of Hope's home, saw the direction that the projectile had come from, and was now on the assailant's tail. Zalera felt adrenaline pump through her system, resolve quickening her stride. She was done with this. The mind games, the trickery. She was going to face Castea and end this. Enough was enough.

A flash of red caught her attention, fabric flapping behind the fleeing assailant. Short, black hair. A lithe figure. It was a women dressed in a red sari, running at top speed. Zalera followed her for nearly seven kilometers. The woman stopped a few yards ahead of her, climbing a tree to rest on a branch and scan the area. Zalera hid herself low in the brush, stilling. Zalera narrowed her eyes, her brain sticking on the woman's appearance, as if it knew her identity. It was only after she heard the woman chuckling to herself that Zalera knew.

Flicking her hair from her face, the woman grinned. "And I was worried about getting away."

"You should have run farther." Zalera jumped down from her spot above in a neighboring tree. Her knee came down toward the woman's face, colliding with a cheekbone. The woman fell backwards, her arm shooting out to catch a nearby branch. She swung onto another one, finding her footing just before Zalera elbowed her in the back, knocking her down into a thornbush below.

By the time Zalera reached the ground, the woman had already freed herself from the prickly branches, her sari torn and tiny cuts scattered across her skin. She faced Zalera, pulling her bow to her chest.

"I should have known," Zalera hissed. "That was an exceptional shot at that distance. So, even young ones aren't spared from the wrong end of your arrow. Why target him for a kill, Aida?"

Aida shrugged against the pull of her bowstring, idly plucking a thorn from her wrist. "If I wanted to kill him, he'd be dead. Y'know that." Zalera swung out her chakram, the piercing end of one spike stilling at Aida's throat. Aida didn't flinch. She used the back of her hand to wipe the blood from her leaking nose. "Y'gonna kill me?"

"I should," Zalera spat. "But my friends will want answers. And you're gonna give them to them." Her chakram edged into the woman's tan skin. "Or I won't hesitate."

"Once you're caught, you're caught."

* * *

Lightning rode with Hope in the ambulance, their bodies being jostled around in the tiny, equipment-packed space. Hope groaned, arms moving to hold his stomach, but the transport straps kept him down. The man tending to Hope began cutting the clothing from his abdomen. Lightning's eyes widened as she was able to see the wound for what it was. The area around the arrow was purple, the circumference of the discoloration too large, too dark. The veins around it were black and swollen.

_I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I hated fighting with you, but this is what I was talking about. You're going to get yourself killed._

Lightning took hold of Hope's hand. He squeezed her fingers like he was draining an orange of its juice. He was having a hard time breathing, wheezing and choking. The medic moved to insert a tube. "You're going to be fine, Hope," Lightning insisted. "I'm not going to let you die on me." His eyes fell closed and Lightning became alarmed, anxious, borderline _hysterical_ as his hand fell from hers. "Hope!" She turned to the medic. "What are you doing? Help him."

"His organs are shutting down and his throat is closing. My remedy didn't work. I don't have the antidote for whatever poison this is, so he's going to have to hang on until we reach the hospital. All I can do is keep his lungs pumping and his heart beating." The medic gave her an empathetic glance, but returned to his ministrations. "It's better that he's out for this. His body will focus on keeping him alive instead of awake. Now control yourself, soldier."

Her sharp gaze softened as it fell back to Hope, her hand still clutching his and her other one sifting through his hair.

_Don't leave me._

* * *

It had been three hours since the attack. Zalera stood outside of the interrogation room, staring Aida down through the one-way mirror. It was obvious that Aida could sense her presence for although she could see nothing but herself, she stared directly at Zalera's position on the other side.

Lightning walked into the room then, the only person to successfully take Zalera's gaze away for hours. Lightning looked a frazzled disaster, blood on her clothes, in her hair, even crusted in a patch on her arm. As her gaze found Aida, Zalera could see a burning hatred.

"How's Hope's recovery?"

Lightning scoffed, an amused sound edged with anger. "He swears he's fine. All cheery fucking smiles. When did he become such an outright liar?" Lightning's eyes scanned Aida, hands clenching against her arms.

Aida didn't appear as anyone special, a woman of average build and height, her skin a deep tan. Her shaggy ebony hair fell to her shoulders, one long braid beside her face with beads threaded through it. A red sari was wrapped around her frame. Her hands were cuffed to the table in front of her as she sat confined to her chair, nothing but hatred swirling in the molten gold of her irises as she looked at the glass.

"They get all of the poison out?" Zalera asked.

"Almost, though for doctors, I think they should have been able to handle it faster. Hope's heart stopped three times before he became stable. Amateurs." Lightning shook her head, moving to lean against the glass, as if being closer could satisfy some of her bloodlust. "Hope woke up about an hour ago. He said that once he gets some of his strength back, he can heal his wound and be all better. The idiot actually asked if he could come and talk to his attacker. As if I would let him out of his hospital bed or anywhere near her. What's her story, anyway? She talk yet? If not, I'm sure I could get something out of her."

"Some of her internal organs, I'm sure."

"Why not all of them?"

"Her name is Alvin Ren Aida. She's thirty-five, hunter by trade. She used to live in the village neighboring mine when I was a child."

"A friend?" Lightning snarled.

Zalera ignored the hint of betrayal and suspicion. "She's a highly skilled archer. Her hunting skills were legendary by the time she was ten. Still… to think that she became an assassin…"

Amodar joined them in the room, already shaking his head in Lightning's direction. "You shouldn't even be here, Farron."

"Why not? I have every right to be here. She attacked on _that woman's_ orders and I know it. I can get it out of her. I want to talk to her, sir."

"Absolutely not. You are far too emotionally invested in this."

"And she's not?"

"Zalera knows her and apprehended her. She's the one who is most likely to get answers out of her and _remain calm_."

Lightning scrunched her face up in anger, but objected no more. She looked to Zalera, pressing her expectations in like a bruise. "You better get her to talk or so help me-"

"I will," Zalera assured. "She wants to talk to me. That's why she didn't put up a fight when I caught her. She ran, but she didn't try to leave when she saw me. There's a message that she wants heard. Probably from Castea."

Zalera entered the interrogation room and sat across from Aida, only the table between them. They stared into each other's eyes, neither backing down until Zalera asked, "Why?"

Aida sunk down in her chair, as far back as her cuffs would allow. One of her legs kicked out, and Zalera could feel Aida's ankle against her own. "It's been a long while, Zalera. I haven't seen you since you were what? Eleven... maybe twelve?"

"Thirteen."

"Right. A mere youngling. You still wear all green, I see. Still mourning your village with the color of your rags. The guilt of survival still eat away at you at night?" Aida's head cocked to the side, grin broadening. "Or has it been replaced by the guilt of surviving your new tribe's attack? How do you keep escaping death when no one else does? Maybe you're too much of a coward to save others and just run at the sign of trouble."

Zalera lunged across the table, grasping Aida's throat with crushing force. "Don't you dare." She let her grip tighten, lingering in Aida's space so she could hear the stutter of breath before she let go.

Aida didn't give Zalera the satisfaction of looking afraid, or even worried. She waited until Zalera was seated to breathe out a quiet, unhurried breath, her lips an o like she was blowing smoke. "A coward and a traitor."

"Excuse me?"

"You're living amongst them. _Friends_ with them. You said it yourself when you caught me. You're even beginning to sound like them. Of course, I'm hardly surprised considering your heritage..."

Zalera hated how the shame rushed to her face like she was small again, being teased about her half-breed existence. She left that part of her life behind in the ashes of her home, didn't even speak of it. To anyone.

Banging her fist on the table, Aida sat forward. "These... _Cocoon_ people," she sneered. "They destroy their own planet and now they think they can take over our land?"

"They don't mean us any harm, Aida. Not most of them. Certainly not Hope-"

"Their _leader_. He's the worst of them all. His very existence is harmful to us, his own people included."

Zalera's eyes lifted from the table to meet Aida's, realizing that she was talking about Hope's l'Cie status and the crystals. The only way she could know about that would be if she was working with Castea.

"Oh, yeah. I know about him. News spread like wildfire, Zalera. Even among us. Everyone is out to get your new little l'Cie."

"Everyone?"

Aida snorted in response. "Since when have l'Cie ever been a good thing? A Cocoon l'Cie can only be after one thing: the destruction of Pulse." She leaned forward, her hands spread out on the table as her nails dug into it. "With the migration came news of what happened to Cocoon and why it happened. The fal'Cie of Cocoon wanted a new world. They created the l'Cie to bring this desire to fruition. What else would the kid's rebranding be for, if not his original purpose?"

Assumptions. That was the base leading to Aida's actions. If she was to be believed, that is. "Why you? If Hope Estheim is such a big bad threat, why of all of the people of Pulse were you chosen to take care of him?"

"Who else could match my skills? Who would be a better assassin?"

"But you didn't assassinate him. You said it yourself that if you wanted to kill him, he'd be dead."

Aida's jaw clenched and she cast her gaze to the side.

"When did you start selling your skills out to Castea?"

Aida jumped forward, jerking the table into Zalera's abdomen. "I sell out to know one."

"Yet you do her bidding."

"I know no one by that name."

"You don't know who the leader of the pack is that took out my tribe?" Zalera seethed, pushing the table back into Aida, her beads clacking against the plastic. "That killed Yeul? The woman that has decimated every sacred Pulsian oath which we hold dear?"

Aida's expression slackened. There was the passing of sadness, of grief, for Yeul, Zalera assumed. Their people's treasured Seeress. Then anger. It pulsed in her cheek, her forehead with a squirming vein at Aida's temple. Then it relaxed into nothing.

"She's lying," Lightning growled as Zalera stepped out. "Let me in there."

"I don't think she is," Zalera said, her face pensive as it was reflected back at her through the glass. "Aida never once spoke of the crystals. Her reasoning for attacking Hope was based on his old purpose as a l'Cie. And when I mentioned Castea-"

"She really didn't know who you were talking about until you referenced Castea's slaughtering of Pulsians," Lightning finished.

"Right. Almost all villages and tribes know of Castea and her followers, just not by name. I didn't know who she was until after I saw her back when I was captured. Her group's deeds are widely known. Their ruthless murdering and conquering mirrors that of legendary, blood thirsty tribes like the one that took down the four great kingdoms centuries ago."

"But she didn't kill Hope. If she really was just an assassin sent from the Pulsians, and she's as good as you both say, why isn't he dead?"

"The arrow was laced with a large dose of a very rare poison," Amodar interjected, staring down at his tablet. With a press of his finger, the screen floated onto the one-way mirror, showing them Hope's medical chart and his vitals in real time. "It's a miracle that we even had the cure for it. Maybe they wanted him to suffer instead of dying a quick death."

"Or... Maybe she did mean to kill him outright," Lightning posited. "Aida's a confident and prideful person, right?" Zalera nodded. "Maybe something stopped that arrow from hitting its original, more fatal target. She wouldn't want to admit that she missed her mark and is playing it off as a purposeful hit."

"How would-"

Zalera cut Amodar off. "Castea."

Lightning nodded. "It wouldn't be surprising in the least if she knew of the attack. She's been keeping an eye on Hope, I'm sure of it. Castea may not have orchestrated this, but she would have known about it. As for how she stopped it... she has a truck-load of abilities that we don't know of. Why she didn't stop the attack completely... I'm unsure."

"She did say that she helped keep Hope alive during all of the other assassination attempts," Zalera added. "Some he didn't even know about."

"We'll keep questioning her," Amodar said, swiping away Hope's chart, "though I doubt we'll get much more from her. Farron, I want you back in that hospital with Estheim. You're still on leave from all duties besides being his protection."

"But, sir-"

"Not a word, Farron."

Lightning's mouth snapped shut. She gave a curt salute, before pausing as she considered the floor. "Do you think there will be more like her," Lightning asked Zalera, tilting her head in Aida's direction.

"If she isn't working for Castea, then most likely."

* * *

"What happened?" Lightning asked in a rush of breath as she entered the room.

Hope was sitting up, holding his stomach as he heaved breaths in and out. Sazh was at his side, frantic hands fumbling with the nurse call button. Lebreau stood opposite him, red in the face as she glared daggers at the bed.

"We told him not to," Sazh grumbled, bushy brows furling with that fatherly look of I-told-you-not-to-but-I-don't-want-you-to-die-to-learn-a-lesson concern.

" _I_ told him not to," Lebreau shouted, stomping a foot. "You stood there shaking your head!"

"What was I supposed to do? Hold him down?"

Lightning shoved her way past Lebreau, skidding to Hope's side. "Will someone-"

"No, but you could talk some sense into him, at least," Lebreau demanded.

"I know Hope-"

"And I don't?"

"-If he wants to do something stupid. He's gonna do it."

"That doesn't mean that you should let him!"

Lightning elbowed over a vase of flowers from Hope's table. The glass shattered on the floor, flowers tumbling into a puddle, but at least it got their attention. "Both of you stop screeching at each other and tell me what happened."

"He healed his wound," Lebreau replied through gritted teeth. "I told him that he should wait. I may not have gotten all of these fancy powers like the rest of you, but magic draws a lot of energy, right? Something Hope is currently in short supply of."

Lightning found herself adopting Lebreau's glare, sending Hope her own with a deathly punch. "Dammit, Hope. All you had to do was rest here. That's it! Do I have to keep my eye on you 24/7?"

"Yes…" Hope panted, rubbing a small circle into his belly, "that's what I was missing. Lightning's cure-all yell. Now… Now I feel better." Hope grinned, looking as winded as if he had finished a triathlon.

Lightning remained unamused. "If it were that simple of an injury, they would have given you a potion to mend the damage. Your system is still in shock, Hope. You need to wait for the antitoxin antibodies to do their job."

Hope's grin thinned into a grimace, but his breathing began to even out and he eventually sat back against his pillows. "There. Now there's no reason for me to be here." Hope shifted his gown, lifting it up and pealing the bandages away to find unblemished, smooth skin, the thread from his stitches laying useless at his hip.

Lightning's grip tightened on the bed's railing, the metal squeaking beneath her palms. She was relieved to see Hope sprinting away from death's door, but would it kill him to exercise a bit more caution when it came to his own health? "Shut it, Estheim. You're staying here until I say so."

Hope's expression drooped into a pout. He wriggled his body back down into bed, giving her a look. "Did you speak to her?"

Lightning's gaze cut over to Sazh, then Lebreau. "I wasn't allowed." She leaned over Hope, patting his bandage back down and tucking his gown beneath his covers. "Zalera did. Turns out she knows her. A Pulsian from close quarters. Naturally we thought that she was working for Castea, but... that may not be so."

Hope sucked his lip between his teeth, chewing on it as he looked down at the displaced flowers on the ground. Lebreau was in the process of gathering them up and shoving them into other vases. "There are a lot of people who want me dead. Many have been trying for years, it seems. Castea may be the most likely candidate given our history, but she goes through a lot of trouble to keep me alive. Even punished Sebastian when I almost…" Hope fumbled with the sleeve of his gown, almost like he could yank it down further. Down to cover himself, his brand. He gave up and tugged the sheets up farther. "That was far too close a call for her."

"You aren't immortal, Hope," Sazh said, collapsing down into a chair. "It's time you start takin' Lightning's advice."

"A _hem_." Lebreau shoved the end of a lily into Sazh's ear.

"And _Lebreau's_ ," he added, shouldering the flower away. "Take care of yourself."

Sazh continued his lecture. Lebreau finished rescuing the flowers and began picking up the glass shards. Hope sat there, hand nursing his non-existent wound. Lightning watched.

Always ready. Waiting.

_If Aida wasn't sent by Castea, then does that mean that others will come to finish the job? I'm already struggling to protect you as is. How am I supposed to stop all of Pulse?_

* * *

The soldiers in charge of watching over Aida scrambled to open the interrogation room door. It wasn't responding to their key cards. The emergency access code was failing. The door wouldn't budge.

"Someone get security!" Amodar yelled. "Tell them to release the safety protocol. Do something!" Amodar kept yelling orders because that was all he could do as he watched Aida through the window. She was struggling, her body convulsing in her seat. Her eyes protruded from their sockets, ballooning up like they were going to pop out of her skull. Her veins surfaced to the top of her skin, the ones in her neck bulging dangerously. Aida pulled against her cuffs, her fingers clawing toward her face, her neck until-

Amodar shoved himself forward to the door. He tried his card, sliding it as he slammed his shoulder into the door. The sensor kept beeping red. No access. The door stayed locked tight. His fingers scrambled to input every override code he knew. Still nothing. "I _will_ get this door open!" One final swipe, and the sensor beeped green. Amodar practically fell into the room as the door opened.

His relief was short lived. "No…"

Aida was on the floor, laying in a pool of her own blood.


	19. Crescendo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A death serves to isolate one of their own. A sudden return brings more questions than answers. And a nightmare creeps closer to reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Holiday season is the busiest for me and I can never fit in writing time. Here's another lengthy chapter as my present to you. Enjoy!

_This… has to be a joke…_

The G.C. interrogation room. It was a small, usually clean and cold place. All solid metal and sharp edges and dark thoughts. Hope wasn't all too familiar with this part of the Guardian Corps headquarters, but he knew it wasn't supposed to be anything like what it was now. The blood. The death. It's likeness to a torture chamber grated against Hope's senses. He never wanted to see something like this again.

Aida was dead. Her body was a lifeless heap, dangling from the table where she had fallen from her chair, limbs limp against her cuffs. Her terror-stricken eyes stared out into the void, blood left in tear trails down her cheeks. Bruises mottled her skin. Hope's mind screamed in outrage, thoughts immediately damning the soldiers, suspicious of their interrogation techniques caused by an overzealous hand.

_No. No one here would do this._

The blood was everywhere, left like some macabre abstract expressionism piece. A muddy red dripped from Aida's body, remained splattered on the wall and pooled on the floor. Hope looked up at the mirror. His own face was reflected back at him, shaded with a red that made the cells in his body want to revolt. Hope had to remind himself to breathe, keep calm, focus. This wasn't about him. This was about the victim on the floor.

A woman that was supposed to be his enemy. The Pulsian that sought his death.

A person.

Lightning was at his side. Her hand was on his arm. Her touch hadn't left him since the hospital, holding on like a leash, though he still managed to find her grip comforting. It was the only thing keeping him standing. She didn't say a word. He couldn't read her face. She was a closed box, again.

"Interesting..." Dr. Viktor Torkin stood hunched over Aida's body, examining her as his gloved hand pressed against a bruise on her chest. "She died without a single soul in the room with her," he murmured to himself, annotating the scene out loud. "You are quite the fascinating specimen."

"Have a cause of death, yet?" Lightning asked. Her voice was sudden, curt in a judgmental way and Torkin dropped the thumb forceps that he had been examining Aida's neck with. "You've been in here for long enough."

Torkin stood and faced them. He used his wrist to drop the bifocals from his eyes to lay around his neck. "I'm terribly sorry. I didn't sense anyone else in the room. Hello, Director." Torkin bowed, the movement so sudden that his glasses swung back up to smack him in the forehead. He flinched, but smiled as he straightened up. "Glad to see that you have recovered."

"It wasn't something to be concerned over," Hope said, politely waving away the sentiment. He could hear Lightning click her tongue, her disapproval a potent heat at his back. "Thank you, Viktor. I thought I told you to call me Hope."

"Right. Sorry, sorry, Hope." Viktor removed one of his blood-stained gloves with a snap, bending over Aida's body to place it in a waste receptacle just behind her. The way he so easily worked around the dead offset Hope in a way that he didn't want to acknowledge. Viktor was only doing his job. "Sergeant Farron, was it? Good to see you, too."

Lightning didn't return the pleasantries or shake his outstretched hand. "Cause of death?"

Viktor's hand curled back up as he pulled it to his side. Hope wanted to gloss over Lightning's brusque manner, but Viktor took it in stride. "I will need to examine her more thoroughly once I have her on my table, but I have a theory. By the massive amount of hemorrhaging, it is an easy guess that she died of exsanguination. But that's not the interesting part. The blood seemed to have leaked from every place imaginable. Notice her eyes," Viktor pulled a pen from the breast of his medical coat, using it to swiftly sweep her hair from her face, "and the bruises."

"Unfortunately hard to miss," Hope whispered, swallowing as he avoided looking too deeply into Aida's eyes.

Viktor grinned, giddy as he leapt to explain. "Her blood vessels burst."

Hope felt himself swallow again, his throat sticking on the thought. His gaze trailed up the blood splattered on the walls.

"Her blood vessels and various veins burst causing the bleeding from her eyes and ears. The blood surfaced beneath the skin and caused the bruising. But the killer," Viktor paused, raising his pen like a finger as he hopped to the other side of Aida, "is here." The pen brushed aside the long braid concealing her neck, revealing a fleshy wound. "The jugular vein and the carotid artery. They burst as well. The pressure of the blood caused them to just… _pop_!" Viktor exclaimed, throwing out his fingers in a crude recreation. Hope felt himself jump back. "All that blood surged forth, as if being forced from the body. Not even the skin could contain it. I've never seen anything like it."

Hope had never heard of it either. Hope's gaze wandered over the scene, his mind analyzing the circumstances. "What could have caused it? What could spike her pressure so high that it… couldn't be contained any longer? Some form of," Hope ignored the burning of his abdomen, the feeling of something rotting him from the inside out, "poison? Could she have swallowed something before being captured?"

Viktor hummed, pulling on a new glove. He took hold of her face, tilting it up and pulling open her jaw. He peered inside before-

"Did he just _smell_ the inside of her mouth?" Lightning asked, low enough that only Hope could hear. She looked downright disgusted.

Hope laughed, a little uneasy. "Science," he shrugged. "It can be good to use all of your senses when trying to perceive something in its entirety."

Lightning shot him a skeptical look. "If he licks her, I'm out."

"Me, too."

Viktor felt along Aida's breast bone, tapping in a line. His hands moved to her abdomen as he pressed down in a circular pattern. "So far no signs of such, but I can't rule it out. Whatever the method, it caused her blood to boil. Her body heat must have skyrocketed in seconds. Despite her time of death, her body is still exceptionally warm. Whether it was due to a poison or illness or injury or a number of other possibilities, I'm uncertain. It will take some time with her."

"Thank you for your work, Viktor," Hope said, trying not to sound as unsettled as he felt. His teeth pressed down to contain the quiver of his lip. "As efficient as ever. We'll look forward to your report."

"There is one other thing that I found. I believe she did it with her own fingernail."

"…Did what?"

"It looks as though she carved something into her forearm. Considering the amount of blood that the wound provided and the lack of clotting, I'd say it was before this all occurred - mere moments, maybe." Grabbing a strip of cloth from his kit, Viktor applied a clear fluid before dabbing at Aida's forearm.

_'I will always protect you'_

It was scratched crudely into Aida's skin, but the message was clear.

"Does it mean anything to either one of you?" Viktor inquired as he glanced back up.

Hope could feel something slinking up his throat. It felt like a snake, slithering. Vines growing, curling and spiraling.

Fingers.

Hope fled the room, covering his mouth as he dry heaved into his glove. He could feel her there, inside of him. Castea's hands. Hope fell to his knees outside of the room. He held himself up, gagging as the ground fuzzed in front of his eyes.

"Hope." Lightning came up behind him, her hands once again searching him out. They clamped down onto his shoulders, and Hope felt a resentment build at having to be leashed even at a time like this. "Are you okay? Is it your stomach? The poison?"

"It's my fault," Hope choked out. His breath hitched and he pushed his face into his hands. His hideous, blood-stained face. His fingers tore at his hair, pulling.

"None of this is your fault. You weren't even here."

"Castea needs me. She can't let me die." Hope looked up at Lightning, her concern unwelcome. He didn't deserve it. "Aida was a threat to me, so Castea killed her." Hope fell back against the wall. Lightning lost her hold on his shoulders, but reached back out. She pulled him against her. Hope tried to breathe in the smell of her, focusing on the smooth feeling as his face pressed against the column of her throat.

But it was too much.

"You don't know that."

"I do," Hope insisted. "You know it, too."

_Even my enemies will die at the hands of her._

"Director?"

Lightning sprang away from Hope. Hope pressed his fingers into his eyes, wiping the emotion from them. It was times like this that he wished that he could borrow Lightning's mask. Hope sloppily put on his own, the mask of a leader. "Yes, Mires?"

Standing nervously in the hallway was Officer Mires. She tugged at the buttons of her coat, her big, round eyes unsure as her gaze skittered around the two of them. "There's something you should see."

* * *

_Another person dead. Another fellow Pulsian gone._

Guilt knit itself around Zalera like a too-tight sweater as they watched the tape of the interrogation. She caught Aida. She led the woman here like a sheep to slaughter. It was hard to look at Aida as a foe, even after facing what she had done, what she had become. Aida was a person from her past. Someone from her land. A girl that she had learned from, a time or two. She had always looked so serious, just her and a bow that was once longer than her arm span. Aida helped Zalera wield her chakrams, taught her how to fight long-range battles.

Anger kept Zalera strong as she faced Aida in that tree. It pushed her into threatening the woman, because she was wrong. Hope didn't deserve to die. Aida didn't need to protect her people that way. But now all Zalera felt was regret.

She couldn't shake the idea that she betrayed her own people.

Amodar, Rygdea, Lightning, Hope and Zalera stood in front of a monitor that encompassed the southern wall of the surveillance room. The footage began with Aida remaining in her seat long after Zalera had left. The irritation never left her face, though her posture became more relaxed as the time ticked by. She stared into the mirror, shifting in her seat.

"…no one," Aida muttered. "I did this. This is my mission. My achievement!" She kicked her foot against the chair across from her. It screeched back against the ground, smacking into the wall and tipping over. She huffed, sitting back up in her seat. "No one is going to take that from me. I'm going to save them."

It happened not long after.

Her body snapped upright, the suddenness appearing painful. There was a glazed film over her eyes as she stared head on. She kept staring. One minute. Two. Three. Golden irises fell upon her forearm, her hand jerking toward it, struggling in its motions. Her nails scratched against the table, then her skin, until a finger dug in. What she was writing was indecipherable from their angle, but they could guess.

Message written, Aida slumped back in her seat as if being released from an invisible hold. Aida sat there silently, staring dispassionately at her arm, as if she hadn't just gouged her own fingernail into her skin. She began to convulse, her body shaking, quaking, jerking violently. Her wrists were still cuffed, but her arms yanked against the restraints, hard enough that the table cracked around the metal. Her fingers scraped desperately against the table's surface. Aida's eyes bulged, the whites of her eyes turning red as they began to leak blood. It dripped from her eyes, her nose and ears. She kept struggling, her hands grasping toward her face as she let out the most anguished, blood-curdling scream. Blue and red patches began to blot beneath her bronze skin. Her legs kicked out the chair beneath her and she fell. The upper half of her body remained suspended by her cuffs. She struggled there, alone, screaming, fighting for her life as sounds from the soldiers on the other side of the door echoed through.

"Pulse…" she said, one last word before the blood burst from the carotid artery in her neck. It sprayed out, high enough that it hit the camera. The lens filled with red, too thick to see through until it dripped down, revealing Amodar standing over Aida's body.

Zalera didn't breathe. It was a prolonged moment of self-inflicted suffocation. Aida's eyes stared out, and Zalera knew what she had seen in her last moments as she called out toward Pulse.

She had been thinking of home.

Amodar cut the footage. The screen went black, but Zalera could still see her laying there. "The message?" Amodar turned to Hope. His solemn face still held a distressed quality, as if he could still see her, too. He had been left baffled by the events, looking to the rest of them for an explanation that Zalera couldn't care to give.

"For me." Hope's forehead was in his hand, fingers rubbing like he could soothe the thoughts of that woman from his mind. His nostrils flared, head hung low. Zalera could read the fear on him, and felt her own swishing in the pit of her stomach.

"I thought as much. Any idea how that was accomplished?"

"Castea knows her abilities well. She's experienced," Zalera hissed. "She can mess with people's minds, even control them for a certain amount of time." Zalera looked toward Lightning, the woman as close to Hope as her duty could cover. Her hand circled around Hope's wrist. Zalera looked back toward Amodar. She would keep Lightning's secrets, whether they were secrets worthy of being kept or not. "She's done it to me in the past."

"How or why isn't important," Lightning growled, staring at the back of Hope's head like it was the only thing that mattered, her guiding star. "Aida's dead. We need to focus on taking care of Castea."

Zalera found herself hating the brutal, single-minded nature that Lightning had. Her vicious disregard for anything that didn't exist within the scope of her goals. "Isn't important?" Zalera balked. "Aida dies and you care so little about her death that you simply dismiss it? She wasn't just some Pulsian, just another casualty of war for a soldier to overlook. She was my friend."

"I didn't mean it like that and you know it."

"You damn well did."

Hope froze between them before jumping to soothe the igniting argument like he always tried to do. Not this time. Zalera warned him off with a look. Rygdea eased Hope back with a hand on his shoulder, saying, "The ladies look like they need a minute. Let's… give them the room."

"Hope's not going anywhere," Lightning objected instantly, her fingers choking Hope's wrist, and Zalera had to laugh.

Lightning's brand of caring suddenly seemed intolerable. Disgustingly dishonest. Abhorrent and obsessive and frustrating. Zalera couldn't stand it anymore. Lightning's affection for Hope, or whatever term she deemed appropriate, made Zalera seethe.

She was a hypocrite. Living for Hope, all else be damned, and entirely unable to admit it.

People died. The world could burn at her feet and she would be fine as long as Hope was breathing.

 _Yeul_ , Zalera's heart countered, her own brand of hypocrisy kept tucked beneath her bed in the form of a purple sack.

"You really think that he can't survive without you. News flash: he did. He has. Your arrogance knows no bounds."

That seemed to be enough to free Hope from Lightning's hold, the girl ripping herself away from him to square up to Zalera. "Arrogance? I'm the arrogant one? You throw a bitchfit in the middle of a meeting, all but demanding the room to yourself so you can air out your issues, and I'm the arrogant one?"

"The director will be in good hands," Amodar assured, his face pinched in disapproval even as he and Rygdea escorted a reluctant Hope out the door.

The door swooshed shut behind them. Steps faded away. Even in her growing sense of agitation, Zalera could see how Lightning's antennae were still perked in Hope's direction. "Is emotion really that alien to you that you can't recognize it in front of you?"

Lightning was still in her civilian wear, her sneakers squeaking sharply on the floor as her body swerved in Zalera's direction. "You're grieving, even my emotionally stunted self can see that," Lightning said, tone rancid. "I'm sure that she meant a lot to you and I'm sorry, but-"

"You're not sorry," Zalera sneered. "You're ecstatic that Aida's dead, aren't you?"

"Tch, I don't have time for this." Lightning gave her a disinterested glance, turning and walking toward the door.

"Aren't you?" When Lightning only kept walking, Zalera pulled her chakram and threw it, the weapon landing in a monitor beside the doorknob. "Aren't you?!" Zalera shrieked, her voice high above the sound as the screen shattered and electricity fritzed.

Lightning protected herself from the sparks with her arms, staring in disbelief at the chakram as it fell and clunked to the floor. "You want a fight?" Lightning muttered, spinning back around. "Yes, okay? I'm happy that she's dead. Have you forgotten? She tried to murder Hope! That woman came here with one intention in mind. She wanted Hope dead. If Castea hadn't killed her, I would have!"

"It's always about Hope, isn't it? It doesn't matter what Aida's reasons for hunting Hope were. It doesn't matter if she was martyr to a cause. It doesn't matter who she was! All that matters is Hope's life, right?"

"Right."

"Because you _care_ about him?"

Lightning's fists clenched. "Right."

" _Hah_. You wouldn't know how to care for someone if you tried."

Lightning's fist crunched against Zalera's nose. The impact reverberated throughout her body. Something snapped, and it forced her to breathe through her mouth, but no blood came. Zalera didn't let the force tear her gaze away, steadying her feet and steeling herself in place. Lightning aimed a punch toward her face again, and Zalera did little to avoid it. She took the hits, to her cheek, her chin, a particularly rough jab to the stomach. Zalera staggered back into the wall, the cold screen of the massive monitor at her back. Before she could raise her head, Lightning helped her to it, shoving her forearm into Zalera's throat and pushing her head so far back that her skull clinked against the screen.

"I'm tired of you badmouthing me and I'm _sick_ of you belittling my feelings."

The inside of Zalera's cheek stung where it had scraped against her teeth on impact. She pushed her tongue into the new tear before she spit blood down onto Lightning's shoulder. "What feelings?"

Lightning sneered at the spatter on her button-down. She heaved her weight onto Zalera, yanking her gunblade out with her free hand. "You just don't know when to quit."

"Am I your enemy, Firefly? Am I a target now?" Zalera stared down the barrel of Lightning's gunblade. Unsurprised. Uncaring. This was where she was supposed to be. On the other side. An adversary. Foretold since ancient times, marking those of Cocoon and Pulse as enemies. Green eyes stared back into icy blue, and Zalera smiled at the snarl of Lightning's expression. "Do it," she dared while grabbing ahold of Lightning's weapon and roughly jerking it forward towards her own face. "Kill your enemy, soldier."

Lightning's glare intensified as did her hold on her weapon, and Zalera thought that this was it. She was done.

_It won't be long now, Yeul._

But Lightning withdrew and took a step back. Zalera fell forward with the loss of Lightning's arm. Lightning holstered her weapon. "You want to be killed, get someone else to do it," Lightning said, and left the room.

* * *

Rygdea watched Hope move. His counters. The swing of his blade, the extension of his arm, his foot work, his aim. The sharpness of his senses. His timing was stunted, a few seconds shy of being efficient as he blocked the slash that Rygdea aimed at his left side.

The left side.

Rygdea never saw the wound, wasn't able to visit Hope in the hospital as he was monitoring a survey mission on a potential city site. It didn't stop him from imagining the hole from the arrow that could have taken Hope's life.

Rygdea had taken an arrow before. Three at once, in fact. It was different than a bullet, more painful as they struck with bone-shattering force, slicing straight through his bulletproof vest. The recovery left him with enough time to drive him up the walls. He still had scars, remembered the way his nerves stung with a zipping sensation as if the frayed end of an electrical wire had been shoved into his body. It was the kind of pain Rygdea wouldn't wish on anyone. It was too soon for Hope to be out and about, too soon for him to be training, healing powers or not.

Yet here they were.

Rygdea lunged forward, swiftly transitioning from parrying to attacking. He dove inside of Hope's space. Hope raised his blade, prepared to bring it down on Rygdea's neck, but Rygdea was faster, driving the hilt of his weapon up against the underside of Hope's chin. Rygdea heard the snap of Hope's jaw as it slammed closed and his teeth clicked together. The swing stole Hope from his feet. He fell backward, landing sprawled into the dirt.

"Gra _aahhhhh_ ," Hope groaned, flopping back. "I think you chipped my tooth."

"Going to grow that back, too?"

That… may have come off more brusquely than he'd intended.

Hope propped himself up on his arms, studying Rygdea from his place on the ground. His scrutinizing, somewhat offended gaze made Rygdea scratch at the back of his head and turn away with a huff. Definitely too brusque.

"You were holding back." It sounded like an accusation, and Rygdea wondered how heartless Hope imagined him to be if he thought that Rygdea was going to face him full force after he had been _hospitalized_ and almost _died_.

"How's the injury?"

"C'mon, Rygdea. Aren't you supposed to exploit the enemy's weakness?"

"Not this time."

"Am I," Hope started, running his tongue over his teeth as he sat cross-legged, "not strong enough to be an enemy?" He held his weapon in his hands. Held was the wrong word. It laid balanced there, on top of the outstretched flats of his palms.

Outside of Academy matters and emergencies, Rygdea struggled in his interactions with Hope since his return from the ark. He found himself torn between his ideals and his emotions toward this bright, broken boy. When Hope had said that he wouldn't hide his l'Cie status from his people, Rygdea had been immeasurably proud. It was everything that Rygdea had worked toward, creating a world where the public wasn't blinded by government falsehoods or manipulated by fal'Cie rule. It gave the people a choice, but it put Hope's head on the chopping block.

Rygdea couldn't let that happen. Not for anything.

It was strange, his attachment to this boy, as a man that never wanted family, or anything like a son.

Rygdea was born into a big family as the black sheep. He sat to the side of most dinners, stayed in his room during family gatherings. His siblings wanted to be doctors, teachers, politicians, athletes and all he wanted was to soar above the clouds in an airship. He had no tangible aspirations, no hobbies. His parents would go to his sister's debates, his brother's ballgames, his siblings' fundraisers and scout meetings, and ignored Rygdea's parent teacher conferences, lacking the concern over his many detentions and suspensions. They didn't care why Rygdea came home with bruises and black marks on his record, that he was only trying to stick up for those who couldn't stick up for themselves. He was labeled the problem child, and that was that.

When he left for training as a recruit, there were no tearful goodbyes or pleas for him to stay. He wasn't invited back home for the holidays, spent them instead in the barracks on his own, enjoying yet at the same time hating the quiet. Cid was the only person that felt like family to him, a friend in the deepest, truest sense as he sat at Rygdea's side, sharing with him the insights that came from growing up in a military household. When Rygdea would get in trouble for teaching another bully a lesson, or calling out an instructor for their hypocrisy or favoritism, Cid would be there, vouching for him, pulling him out of the mud that he had thrown himself into. Cid was the one that led him into the Wide-Area Response Brigade, taking him high into the clouds aboard the Lindblum, ready to face injustice head on as Rygdea's commander. Rygdea trusted him more than he thought he was capable of.

Until Cid's 'betrayal.' Until their lives became a knotted tangle of deceit and subjugation and tragedy.

Since the fall and he found himself alive and spared unlike most of his unit, Rygdea lost sleep at night wondering why. Why didn't Cid tell him about his brand? Why didn't he come to him for help?

Seeing Hope with that brand turned time backward for Rygdea. He was facing Cid again, holding a gun to his head.

A mercy killing. The only thing Rygdea was capable of doing for the friend that had done so much for him.

Rygdea had seen Cid's conviction, his devotion and aspirations in Bartholomew as they began to rebuild their world. He could see it in Hope now, the parallels all the more glaring as l'Cie servitude hung over his head.

A bullet wasn't going to be the answer this time.

"It's not a question of strength." Rygdea knelt in front of Hope, taking hold of the kid's fingers as he curled them back around his weapon. "If you were the enemy, I would exploit that wound and your pain that you've so obviously been trying to hide," Rygdea remarked, smirking at the surprise on Hope's face at having been caught. "But you aren't the enemy, you're my charge. I'm supposed to make sure you're okay and kick your ass if ya lie to me."

Hope squirmed, "You don't have to get all paternal on me."

_A father? Me? A real fine joke there. Family was never my strong suit._

"I do, Hope. You were left in my hands after... after you're father passed and though you were eighteen-"

"You were already like a father to me before dad died, Rygdea." The green of Hope's eyes was piercing, and Rygdea cursed the heart of this child. So open and magnetic. "You know that."

Scratching at the stubble of his chin, Rygdea shook his head with a chuckle. "Don't try to soften me up and make me forget that stomach you've been trying not to nurse. How is it? You didn't fully heal it, did you?"

"I don't know why I try to get anything past your eagle eyes."

"I don't, either."

Hope laughed, stopping short to wince and adjust his position. "Hurts a bit. I healed most of the external damage-"

"Trying to fool Lightning, too, huh?"

"-and the doctors said they got virtually all of the poison out, though a small, non-lethal portion will linger in my system for a few days. Clotting the blood took more time than I was prepared for. There's still some cell damage and tears in the surrounding tissue."

"In summary, you have no business being outside of a hospital bed."

" _You're_ the one that suggested we train."

"Don't whine at me, boy. I knew it was the best way to test your capabilities. Have to keep you honest somehow."

"And just what are you two morons doing?" Lightning shouted as she approached, a scowl marring her features. She pushed her way through the guards encircling their match in Hope's yard. "You were just shot, Hope. With a poisoned arrow. You could have died, remember?"

Hope cringed as she stood over him. "It was just some light practice, okay? No biggie."

"No biggie?!" Lightning practically screeched, and Rygdea never got tired of this, watching Lightning lose her shit over every tiny thing having to do with Hope.

"He- _llooo_! Perfectly capable and responsible adult right here," Rygdea drawled, receiving a searing glare from Lighting. "I called it off when it got to be too much for him."

Lightning swung herself around to face Rygdea, narrowing her eyes as if aiming a dart between his brows. "A responsible adult doesn't battle the fatally wounded for kicks."

"A responsible adult doesn't give a grieving woman a beat down," Rygdea retorted, unable to resist as he spotted the blood on her shirt and her reddened knuckles. "How's Zalera?"

"You beat up Zalera?" Hope asked, eyes wide. Then he turned back to Rygdea. "Hey! I'm a capable and responsible adult, too!"

"Don't get me started on you," Lightning replied. "You're both idiots. Playing warriors out in the open after an assassination attempt."

Hope pushed himself up, his weapon sliding off of his lap and into the dirt. There was a curt, exasperated noise strangled in his throat. "What am I supposed to do? Remain in hiding for the rest of my life?"

"Yes!" Lightning sighed, and even Rygdea reluctantly agreed with an affirmative hum.

"Traitor," Hope accused, throwing a glance Rygdea's way. "The grounds have been searched and are being monitored. We're fine here."

"What a load of bull."

"Lightning. Don't you get it? Nowhere is safe. I was attacked in my home. You were attacked in a monitored room of the Academy. I will take appropriate measures for safety, but I will not let people keep me from living my life."

Lightning clammed up, the stiff line of her shoulders giving under Hope's impassioned speech. Hope's comm went off then, followed closely by Rygdea's.

"Yeah?" Rygdea answered. He could barely hear Amodar on the other end over Hope's shout of,

"They _what_?!"

* * *

"It's true. All of them are accounted for. They're being examined now and so far, physically speaking, they're fine. Aside from reported grogginess and a slight increase in temperature, they're in the same shape as they were when they were abducted," Amodar concluded, his expression overflowing with relief as he spoke with a newly arrived Hope, Lightning and Rygdea. Suspicion tugged at his cheeks, tightened his grip on his tablet, but it did little to sour his current jubilant mood.

Hildough was at Amodar's side, his eyes sifting through the incoming traffic of the hospital as they spoke. "I have contacted Waynes, as requested. He should be here within the next five or six hours to speak with us on this matter."

"Thank you, Hildough."

"They're still being examined, I assume?" Hope asked. "All of the soldiers are fine? No injuries? No signs of…" the word coiled in his chest, cramping, "trauma?"

"Sir," Lightning interrupted, an eager edge to her tone and Hope immediately stepped back, "did they confirm the identities of their abductors? Have we got intel on where they were held?"

"Has anyone contacted their families, yet?" Sazh asked as he approached, what was left of the NORA gang on his heels.

Amodar held up his hands to halt the questions, placing his tablet in the bend of his arm. "We have a set, coordinated group contacting families after initial examinations have concluded. Twenty-four people just popped up out of nowhere, so we need to be patient, discreet, and understanding. Based on the examinations that have been completed, none of them have sustained physical trauma of any sort. As for the accounts of their capture, I'm afraid that they have little to offer. Not one of them can recall their time between their abduction and now. There has been no confirmation of Castea Hidon's group's involvement other than Mr. DeWald's account of the original abduction. According to the guards that found them at the perimeter, they all just showed up out of thin air. No leads on their original location or method of transport."

"Hope!" Maqui cried, bouncing up from behind the group as he waved a hand. "Hope! Hope! Can we see him?"

"Calm down, Maq-"

Lebreau stomped toward Hope and yanked him down by his collar. "No bull shit, Hope. Where's Gadot?"

Hope found himself under the threatening glare of Lebreau, the point of her nails sharp against his Adam's apple. Yuj's stare was just as potent, and Hope felt like he was being interrogated in the NORA Café all over again. It was like they expected him to put up walls, hide everything behind red tape and a giant label that read 'classified.' But this was Gadot's life. His well-being. Hope wouldn't keep that from them.

_They probably thought the same about Snow…_

"Has Gadot been cleared yet?" Hope asked, slipping himself free from Lebreau's grip slowly with a pacifying smile because he knew what her anger was capable of.

Amodar rose a brow, pulling his tablet to flick across screens. "…For the most part, yes. Some last procedural tests need to be done, but-"

"No way, man," Yuj said, startling a janitor nearby as he slammed a hand against the wall. Yuj looked haggard, his hair unstyled and left in a curly bedhead mess. He had _facial hair_. Hope didn't know that Yuj was even capable of growing a beard. The man was always clean shaven, eyebrows perfectly plucked, his body groomed more than most. But the light was back in his eyes. The gloom that had shadowed over him was dissipating. "You are not keeping us from him."

"-but I'll make an exception," Amodar finished, a warning glint in his eye, but he appeared far more amused than angry. "Exercise caution and restraint. We only just got him back."

Lebreau gulped audibly at Hope's side, and her voice was smaller than he was prepared for. "We just want to see him."

Hildough ducked out to tend to other matters as the group migrated to Gadot's room. The NORA members had all of the patience of a fly, darting toward the man's room, their shoes screeching around corners. Maqui had to duck and slide beneath a passing gurney to avoid a collision. Hope laughed, Amodar looking like he was going to have a coronary as they followed behind. Gadot's door banged loudly as Lebreau swung it open. She was panting, the dribbles of sweat staining through the back of her shirt.

A young nurse was tending to Gadot, checking his vitals. "How did you get in here? This area is restricted to civilians."

Yuj and Maqui piled in behind Lebreau, knocking her forward and they all stood silent, staring wide-eyed at Gadot. Amodar stepped in with a, "They have clearance. _Temporary_ clearance," he emphasized, "so let's give them some space."

"…Right," the nurse said as she was ushered out with Amodar and Rygdea, "Right. Of course."

"Is this a dream?" Gadot asked, his voice sounding sore, painful like he'd just woken from a twelve hour nap that he snored through. "All of you…"

"Welcome back," Lebreau uttered soggily as she hugged Gadot with all her might. Her arms couldn't reach around his large form, but she heaved her body onto him, feet off the ground and Gadot pulled her forward, taking her weight like a comfort.

Maqui was on the other side of Gadot, snaking his arms in around the man's waist and burrowing in beneath Lebreau. "I can't believe you're here. I thought… I thought I was never going to see you again."

"You act like I've risen from the grave. You best have thrown me a rockin' funeral. Tell me Lebreau gave the eulogy. Maqui would have sobbed right through it like a baby."

"Would not!"

"Would so."

"Would not!" Maqui yelled, pinching Gadot's arm before he realized what he was doing.

"Maqui!" Lebreau reprimanded. "Don't hurt him!"

"I- I didn't mean to."

"At least I know I'm not dreaming." Gadot sounded stunned, overwhelmed, and Hope looked up to find the man staring at him. "Hope."

"Welcome back, Gadot."

"Pinch me again, Maq."

"Nuh-uh." Maqui had his eye on Lebreau, his hands protecting his goggles like the woman was going to take them and beat him with them. "I don't have a safe word for this."

"You're alive…" Gadot whispered, looking Hope up and down, blinking back his confusion. "I was sure that we failed. I was sure you were dead."

"I survived thanks to you, Gadot," Hope said, grateful for the sleeves of his blazer. They didn't need to get into the l'Cie stuff just yet. "Thanks to all of you." Hope smiled as he gave the man a hug. He wheezed as he felt his ribs being crushed by the compactor that was Gadot's strength.

"Please, I did nothing but get myself captured."

"You did more than you know." Hope pulled back, plastering on an even showier smile.

"Hey there, Lightning. How's life been treating you?"

"Splendidly," she deadpanned. She stood in the doorway, leaned against the frame with her knee bent like a barrier across the entrance. "You should rest up. We could use you out there."

"Concern for me? Ha, never thought I'd see the day. And you, Sazh?"

"Not bad. Great to see ya flyin' so high, kid."

"That's the shock, I think," Gadot admitted, looking down his body, fingers drumming on his thighs.

"Give your personality some credit." Lebreau snaked her fingers under his, held them. "You're the most resilient person I know. _Mmmm_. Maybe number two. Behind Snow."

"Guy's eating ice and I'm still number two," Gadot joked.

"Ha. Ha."

The mirthless words turned attention toward Yuj. He was in the corner, bundled in the hood of his oversized sweatshirt.

"Yuj?" Gadot asked, uncertainty laced in his voice as he sat forward. "I could hardly recognize you."

"Pfft, he just needs some guyliner and checkered vans to complete his new look," Lebreau teased.

Yuj didn't reply, though Hope knew about seven comebacks the old Yuj would have flung her way. "Let's… go visit Olly, yeah?" Hope asked, hesitant as he stepped backward against Lightning's leg barrier. "Yuj can catch up in a bit."

* * *

Yuj didn't trust his voice as the two of them remained alone. A sob sat in his vocal chords, knotting itself in until Yuj felt ready to burst. It had been _months_. Gadot was gone. No Snow. No Gadot. The two were their commanders, looked up to, respected, always, _always_ supposed to be there. Gadot promised Yuj that he would always be there, ever since a five year old Yuj cowered on his bed, afraid of the boogeyman hiding in his closet. Gadot, big, burly, tough as nails Gadot, was the strength of their team. Snow had the mouth and the heart, but Gadot was their backbone.

Yuj couldn't move, couldn't speak. He hid inside of his hood, Gadot's hospitalized form shielded from his view.

"You gonna just stand there? You look like a creepy gnome or something."

Just hearing his voice made Yuj want to cry. There was a huff of breath, and then the creaks of the bed as Gadot moved. "Don't," Yuj ordered, the sound a broken, pitiful thing and he wanted to swallow it back up. He was supposed to be strong. He was supposed to stand strong and calm in Snow's and Gadot's absences, look after Lebreau and Maqui. As the three of them stood alone in a world that kept taking everything from them, Yuj found that he couldn't even take care of himself.

Gadot didn't listen. He stood, hobbling his way over on stiff legs, looking like he was a puppet learning to walk. Yuj couldn't watch. He slammed his eyelids shut, but he could still see Gadot, looking smaller and weaker than he had ever been in Yuj's eyes. Arms encased him and Yuj didn't want them. He didn't want this. To be consoled. To be held. He struggled against Gadot's arms, shaking, beating his way free. Gadot held firm until Yuj sunk against his chest.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't you dare apologize!" Yuj shouted, grabbing onto the logs that were Gadot's arms and pushing his face into Gadot's neck. "You. You suck! You totally, absolutely suck! You _scared_ me, you know? Going off like that to save Hope and then never coming back. You aren't- You aren't supposed to end up like Snow."

"I know, man." Gadot shook his head, and then he started laughing as he leaned away from Yuj. "I'm used to your feathery hair tickling me, but this?" Gadot poked a finger into Yuj's bearded cheek and Yuj went bug-eyed, ducking down. "Another new look? Maybe you should just go back to being a blond."

"Ha, as if." Yuj sniffed. He internally shook himself, pulled his loose threads back together, and tucked them back inside as he smiled smugly at the man. "You couldn't pay me to go back to that!"

"I thought I couldn't pay you to grow a beard. Shows me."

"What are you doing up? Get back in bed."

"Is that an order?" Gadot asked, raising his eyebrows like a challenge.

"You're damn right, it is."

Gadot smirked and nodded like that was exactly what he expected to hear. Yuj helped him back to bed. Gadot swore that nothing hurt, that he wasn't wounded, his body just felt like he'd taken too long of a sabbatical from training, moving, breathing.

"I can't imagine how those guys felt after stasis. My joints are creaky as shit and I had a cat nap in comparison."

"Is that what happened?" Yuj asked, his hands stilling mid-motion as he tucked Gadot back in. "You think you were put in stasis?" A sense of panic shot through Yuj, and his eyes roved over Gadot's body, searching and searching for the dazzling bright mark that corrupted Hope.

"Easy there. I'm not a l'Cie or anything. One is enough for this group." Gadot's grip tightened on the bed railing, and he stared hard at the fake ficus in the corner. "I don't know what happened. I really don't. I remember nothing." Gadot closed his eyes, eyelids scrunching with the force of his concentration. When he opened his eyes back up, there was no shock of revelation or the relief of knowledge, just a sad, somber tone to his dark eyes. "No matter what it's just... nothing. It was like I was sleeping. The entire time. But what happened with Hope? How'd you find him?"

"We didn't. They took you to stop us from looking. They threatened to kill you if we didn't stop... so we did. We left Hope in their hands to save you." Yuj remembered hearing the news, being robbed of the decision because it wasn't his call.

Hope or Gadot.

Yuj would have chosen Gadot, hands down.

"But I don't regret it." Yuj slumped down in a chair by Gadot's bedside. Gadot looked like he wanted to say something in disapproval, but he tightened his jaw. Yuj wouldn't have cared if Gadot objected. There was nothing in this world more important than NORA.

"You know who took us?"

"Some woman named Castea. She leads a bunch of l'Cie in a mission to obtain a crystal to bring back the Maker. Apparently only Hope can use it. He has his brand back and everything. We're trying to stop her and her group, but... we're not strong enough."

"Yet," Gadot finished. Yuj lifted a brow, confused to find such a fiery expression of optimism stretched across Gadot's face. "We're not strong enough yet. Nobody's a match for NORA."

Yuj smiled, his eyes misting and he could hardly get out an agreement.

"Right."

* * *

Maqui bounced in place as they waited outside of Olly's room. Seeing Gadot soared his spirits, but there was still one other that he had to make sure was still intact. Maqui abandoned Gadot and Olly that day. His cowardly self chose to hide instead of fight. He submitted himself to a beat down without raising one fist. He couldn't help wondering if he could have done something. Just one move could have changed the entire outcome. Gadot and Olly could have been spared even if it cost Maqui his life.

"Settle down, Maq," Lebreau chided in his ear, much closer than she had been a moment before. "I know that he's your friend more than any of ours, but we are all worried about him."

_That's not it. You don't understand._

She didn't have to understand. Maqui nodded back, letting her touch on his upper arm ground him to the here and now.

Hope knocked on the door, pausing as there was a reply from a deep, male voice that certainly didn't belong to Olly. Out stepped the ambassador, a man Maqui had little dealings with. He found it odd to find the man inside of Olly's room, and judging by the look on Hope's face, it was a surprise to him, too.

"Hello, Director... and friends."

"Reuben…" Hope blinked in a flustered flutter of lashes, before he schooled his features. "Olly okay?"

Hildough hesitated before nodding, his eyes drifting back as he closed the door behind him. "He is in excellent shape, considering the circumstances. Lieutenant La Salle is... a different story."

"Should we come back?"

Hildough appeared oddly pleased by Hope's concern. Maqui narrowed his eyes, gazing back and forth between the two like he was missing something. "Unnecessary. I am sure that they would enjoy your company. Young La Salle has some pressing questions that you should tend to." Hildough bowed his head toward Hope, then the rest of them, and took his leave.

"For some reason, that guy gives me the heebie-jeebies."

"Allergic to more gentlemanly company, Lebreau?" Sazh joked.

Lightning snickered. "More like unused to it when stuck in this mound of mutts."

Maqui wasn't even offended, instead bounding into the room before Hope's fist could make contact with the door once more.

"Maq!" Hope shouted.

Nivien was sitting at Olly's side, holding both of his hands in her own. Tears had dried on her cheeks, leaving faint streaks of black in the corners of her eyes from her running make-up. Olly laid in bed, shirtless with bandages wrapped around his middle. There were bruises splotched along his skin, and Nivien's gaze kept bouncing back and forth between each one like an uncertain ping pong ball. The two didn't seem to notice the group enter.

Maqui felt a strangling tug on the back of his coveralls as Lebreau yanked him back. "We can visit later…" Lebreau spoke, hesitant and quiet.

"No. No." Nivien said, thumbing at the black trails on her cheeks. "...It's fine. Come on in. I don't mean to hog my brother's company."

"Dude, where ya been?" Maqui ran and glomped Olly, the other remaining stiff in his arms. That was normal, though. Olly always seemed displeased with any physical contact that wasn't from his sister. "You okay?"

"I think he'd be better if he could breathe, half pint," Lebreau reprimanded.

Eyes widening, Maqui jumped back from him and his bandaged chest. "Sorry, man." But Olly was too busy laughing to hear his apology, and Maqui found himself confused until, "Hey! I'm like an inch taller than you!"

Lebreau clapped him on the back. "You'll always be half-pint to me, Maq. It's great to see you laughing, Olly."

"Thanks," he replied bashfully. "I'm alright, Maq. I have a few bruised ribs... but it's nothing."

"Bruised ribs are not nothing," Nivien scolded.

Hope said something, but it was too faint as he remained standing out in the hall. Lightning whispered something towards him with a frown. She pushed him forward with a firm smack on the back, and Hope reluctantly entered with a wince. "You have bruised ribs?" Hope asked, staring at the wind of gauze across Olly's chest.

"Yes, he does. The doctor said it was fairly recent," Nivien replied, heaving a dead stare Lightning's way. Her look softened as it swerved to Hope.

"Your memory's foggy, too?"

"I... remember being in the ship..." Olly said, biting at the edges of his lip. "Someone started yelling about losing control... I... I fell... I hit my side really hard against a railing and... my head..." Olly reached around, prodding his fingers at the back of his head.

"He has a bump at the back of his head," Nivien added, her hand patting gently atop his cropped hair. "His doctor said that he doesn't have a concussion or any internal cranial damage, thank Etro."

Olly scrunched up his face, giving his sister a look as if saying that he could tell his own story. "I blacked out... then I remember sitting on a beach with my sister...It was fake, obviously. A dream. We were with our parents back on Cocoon..." There was a hiccupped breath, and Nivien looked torn between her role as a concerned sister and the lieutenant in their company. "I also... recall smelling something gross like when we would pull our holiday decorations out of storage every year. That old mold smell."

"Musty," Nivien supplied, crinkling her nose, "and stale."

"And I remember the smell of bodies. The dead that were around us on Cocoon before we were rescued." Olly's hand flapped on the bed, searching until Nivien took it back into her hold. "It smelled like that. Like death. There was this strange… yellow light around me. I don't… I'm sorry. I don't remember anything else. Sorry."

"If you were hurt on the ship, then... how are you..." Nivien stood perplexed, as did the rest of them. It was odd that the bumps and bruises that Olly got months ago were still fresh. As if the injuries had occurred only hours ago. Maqui's gaze turned scrutinizing and he realized that despite the months that they had been missing, Olly looked the same, his hair still cropped when it should have grown out of its style long before.

"Enough about me," Olly said suddenly, shifting his pillow with the raise of his shoulder. "How are you guys? Any news on freeing Cocoon? Speaking of freeing... how'd Hope get away? Was the mission successful or..." Olly turned to Nivien, snubbing Hope's presence in the room.

"It doesn't matter-"Hope tried, but Olly was having none of it.

"Of course it does. I want to know," he insisted. "What happened?"

Maqui could feel his stomach drop. He could still remember the weight of Hope in his arms, his hands groping through grime and blood and finding a rail thin Hope covered in injuries. The squelch of a wound as Maqui accidentally squeezed the spot made him want to hurl then and the memory of it churned his stomach just as much now.

Nobody wanted to volunteer the information. Sazh stared at his shoes. Lebreau threw a hesitant glance Hope's way. Lightning could have burned a hole into Olly's forehead with how viscious her glare was.

"I escaped, that's what happened." Hope was calmer than Maqui expected, but his hand held tight onto his arm. "Cocoon remains unchanged."

Time passed with more information being shared throughout the room. Sazh left during a lull in the conversation, being called in on a work-related project. Lebreau left shortly after, looking to return to Gadot's side.

"Hey, can I speak to Olly for a bit?" Maqui asked.

"I think he needs his rest," Nivien said.

"I'll be fine, sis. Stop being such a helicopter parent."

Mussing up his hair playfully, she pressed a kiss to the side of his head. "I need to speak with Sergeant Farron anyway."

Lightning's brow rose, but she didn't question or protest and instead followed her out beside Hope.

When everyone was gone, Maqui turned to Olly. "I'm sorry-"

"Stop apologizing. Really, Maqui. You've apologized enough. Heck, you even explained yourself when I wasn't looking for an explanation. If things went the way you said, which I don't doubt, then I would have done the same thing had I been in your position. Now, is that all you wanted, Maq, 'cause I'm kinda feeling dizzy."

_I should leave it alone. It's not my business. It's not any of my business-_

"Do you blame Hope?"

_Ah, beans._

"For what?"

"Your abduction." Maqui could tell that the tension between Hope and Olly had grown worse, their interactions stiff and icy and telling of the corroded relationship between them. "Or is this still about Nivien?"

Olly cursed, which threw Maqui off guard. Olly had quite the altar boy reputation. Maqui couldn't recall a time where he had heard a dirty word come from Olly's mouth. "I can't blame Hope for this. If I could, I would. Trust me, I would. Even I can see that this isn't his fault. I knew that from the beginning. It wasn't just a mission when I was sent out there. I wanted to find Hope. For my sister."

"So it is about her. They broke up almost a year ago. You have-"

"I have to what? Let it go?!" Olly's eyes blazed with fury, and Maqui felt his lips curling back between his teeth. "He promised her, Maqui. He promised her that he'd be there for her. Here was his prime opportunity to prove that he wasn't a liar. She was alone. She had no one. I..." Olly pressed a hand to his chest, a pained pinch to his cheeks. "She's suffered every day since the fall, waiting for our parents to come back, spending every spare moment taking care of me. She's the reason that I'm alive. She doesn't deserve this!"

"Would you rather Hope pretend?"

"He told her that he loved her. Did you know that?"

Maqui contemplated his answer. The truth, for him, was always the best. "Yes."

Olly's jaw went slack. "You did?" he half yelled, astonished and outraged as he slammed his arms against the bed. "And you're still friends with that asshole?"

"Things change, Olly. Feelings change." Maqui never realized how much Hope and Nivien's breakup had affected Olly. Olly soured whenever he spoke of it, sure, but this was anger on a much higher level than Maqui was prepared for. "He didn't intentionally hurt-"

"I don't care! I hope he learned a lesson about real pain when he was taken. I think that's the best thing that could have come out of all of this. At least _Director Hope Estheim_ learned a lesson and got to know some of what us normal lower beings experience."

There was that squelch sound again. Maqui's brain rewound to Hope's pitiful appearance as he'd been dragged into the hangar. The desperation in his eyes. His care as he soothed Zalera. Watching him fall to the floor in Sazh's stunned arms.

That damn brand on his arm.

Maqui could feel his own emotions skyrocket. "What are you even saying?! As if you know real pain. What the hell have you experienced?" Olly blinked, stuttering back in indignation before Maqui shut him down. "You know what? Hope did experience real pain. More pain than you can even fathom. He was held for months in some ark, got tortured for hours on end every day. I guess you can sleep with a smile on your face now. Hope learned his fucking lesson real well."

Maqui slammed the door as he left the room, not once looking back.

* * *

Nivien led them to an empty waiting room on the east side of the building, the only sound being the typing of the receptionist at the desk on the corner. "I, ah," Hope laughed choppily, scratching the back of his head, "get the sense that I'm not wanted here."

Nivien didn't answer him. Her sole focus was Lightning, but Lightning kept her gaze on Hope, "Not needed may be the better term," because Nivien wasn't even a speck in her scope. "You want me to leave him unprotected so we can play catch up?" Lightning tilted her head Hope's way, watching Nivien bristle.

"You aren't the only one here who can protect him."

"Just the most competent."

"Yeah. No. No, I'm fine." Hope waved a hand in front of his face, looking more and more horrified as he was prodded away. Lightning was going to tell him to stay, that she needed Hope within reach, within sight. Nivien wasn't worth the risk or her time. But then he pulled his Comm and thumbed the screen. "Alyssa's been chiming me anyway. I need to check the status on the others with the general. Uh, just… call me when you're done, Light." Hope's smile morphed into more of a grimace as he saluted her with his comm and strode away, cautiously peeking behind his back every few steps.

Nivien visibly relaxed once Hope was out of earshot. She began wringing her hands, fingers twisting painfully into knots as she perched on the end of a waiting room chair. Lightning took the cue to sit. She watched Nivien's leg bounce in place. It was unnerving to see Nivien so shaken. The lieutenant was a confident, headstrong woman in even casual settings. Facing an adamantoise without back-up hadn't been enough to stir her up this much.

"I want... to apologize for the way I've behaved towards you," Nivien started.

"I haven't exactly been diplomatic on my end, either." Lightning sat back in her chair, crossing her arms before her. "It's understandable, I guess."

Nivien smiled a small, unnerved smile, as if grateful. "You know by now, I'm sure, that Hope and I were together. I know that you both are... or are going to... Right...? Maker, this is so awkward..."

Lightning kept herself composed despite wanting to smack her palm into her face. Hope and Lightning might as well have made announcements of their relationship on the big screen. Everybody already knew. If she got one more word of advice from Zalera or Sazh or got one more wink from Rygdea she was going to find a way to shove herself back into stasis.

 _Sheesh, if Snow were here… I don't want to think about_ his _teasing._

"I still love him."

The statement couldn't have been more obvious, but it was the emotion laced within the statement that stopped Lightning's thoughts cold. Lightning knew how much Nivien cared for Hope. Lightning had to swallow every instinct inside of her as she watched him dance in her arms at the soiree. Yet hearing it from Nivien, spoken so brazenly to Lightning of all people, made Lightning really think on their time together. Nivien had been with Hope. She touched his cold, pale cheeks, kissed the soft bow of his lips, held him through moments painful enough to break a normal man, and was with him in the most intimate of ways. She knew Hope in ways Lightning didn't. Nivien's love for Hope was overflowing, and if Hope wanted, he could scoop all of it back up.

"When we first got together, everyone laughed. I was the older, established soldier and Hope was this young twig of a kid fresh out of school. Everyone thought that he was the head over heels, little puppy dog following me around, but... _I_ was the one that fell in love with him." Her slender hand was held over her heart, her dull, bitten nails digging into the fibers of her sweater. "He was sweet and genuine and trusting. He wasn't like everyone else. Hope had seen so much of the world, so much evil, but he didn't let it warp his soul. He became a better person because of," hazel eyes flickered back to Lightning's hardened stare, facing it head on, "what you all went through. I loved that about him... I loved everything about him."

Lightning sat forward, leaning her crossed arms on her knees. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I know now... No matter how much I loved him, it didn't change how much he cared for you. I should have seen it sooner."

"Seen what?"

"He was always in love with you. When we met. When we were together. I wasn't enough to change that. You were this legendary fighter, a savior to him. But to me, you were a block of crystal. A character in a story. I didn't take the threat seriously."

As much as this admission pooled pride into Lightning's chest, made her feel wanted, desired, treasured, it was hard to bear the weight of this woman's feelings. Hope put quite the spell on Nivien, one Lightning feared couldn't be undone.

"I'm pretty sure you guys are together... and it kills me to think..."

Nivien bit down on her thumb nail, nibbling into the cuticle. Lightning took note of the bloodied stubs where her nails were supposed to be. Lightning sat there, not knowing how to move forward. Should she apologize? Give Hope back? Mark Hope as hers and tell Niven to leave them the hell alone?

"...but I know that I deserve to be with him."

The latter, then.

"You think you know him? You think you can love him?" Nivien's gaze became harsh and accusatory, her twittering fingers furling into fists on her thighs. "You haven't been here. You hardly know him." Nivien scoffed. "You don't know him at all. You weren't here when he dealt with the hatred and bullying of those who only saw him as the destroyer of Cocoon. You weren't here when he was killing himself night after night to be good enough for his father. It wasn't your arms that held a shaking Hope, filled with fear and anger and grief after his father passed." Tears renewed the black lines drawing down her cheeks, but she didn't waver. She was intent on stabbing Lightning in all of her sore spots. "It wasn't you who felt his tears running down your shoulders. It wasn't you who agonized over his pitiful acting as he pretended he was better. You haven't been here for him so stop acting like he's yours to protect, to save... to-to love! He's not yours!"

Nivien was right. Lightning hadn't been there for Hope. She would have given anything to be present in his life during those five years. To shield him and his father. To hold him in the cemetery. To call him on his crap when he lied straight to her face.

But she wasn't.

She couldn't fix that.

"You talk as if I abandoned him," Lightning said, voice even, a finely sharpened, but concealed blade. "As if I chose to leave him in favor of staying locked in a crystal prison. You want to talk about being there for him? You weren't there for him when he lost his mother. You weren't there for him when he went on a revenge mission against his mom's 'murderer'. You weren't there for him when he became a l'Cie or when that led him to becoming a monster to be persecuted and hunted by an entire planet." Lightning shot up from her seat, kneeling down before her elder so she could meet those hazel eyes as they shattered at every word. "You weren't there for him as we faced the end of our lives together."

Lightning waited until the words settled across Nivien's face and sunk into her eyes. Into the grooves left from sleepless nights and the trails ploughed by grief. Only then did she stand and turn away.

"Don't hurt him," Nivien replied, voice rough.

Lightning stopped, finding it almost remarkable how much those three words shook her concrete confidence. She looked back at Nivien, who once seemed calm, composed, sturdy, a warrior in her own right, and wondered how much of herself stared back at her. Would she have had the strength to tell Nivien those words had she woken just a little earlier? It pained Lightning to see Nivien this way over Hope, yet Lightning wanted nothing more than to hold on tight to Hope's arm and pull him in the other direction.

"I'll leave you both alone. Just... don't hurt him."

"I won't."

* * *

Nivien's heartache remained a tangible thorn in Lightning's side until she arrived back home with Hope. Hope was consumed by his thoughts, staring at the hand that had held those of each and every soldier that had returned back home. There was the slightest hitch in his gait, his steps lighter on his left side and his elbow turned in, protecting where the arrow struck.

"At this point," Lightning said, raising her voice to yank Hope's mind back into the foyer of his home, "we might as well live in that hospital."

Hope tilted his head, eyeing the hall sconce in mock thought. "No, thanks. I like homing with you."

"…Homing?"

"You know. Like rooming? Except we're not roommates, just housemates. So, homing."

"You," Lightning snickered, "are the dorkiest of dorks."

"You would know, Queen of Awkwardness."

"How am I awkward?"

Hope sucked on his lips, eyes sprinkled with humor. "Have you _seen_ yourself in social gatherings? Stiff and quiet and the picture of uncomfortable. Let's not forget how you shattered my nose with a door."

"Drama King of the Century over here." Lightning shoved herself into his side. Hope hissed, pulling back, and the humor was sucked out of the room with her breath. "Shit. I shouldn't have done that." Lightning's hands fretted over him, but Hope stopped her, holding her hands and returning them to her side.

"Worrywart."

"I'm sure there's still a bed with your name on it back there."

"Please. Don't start." Hope spoke through a gritted smile, his hand pushing against his side like he was holding it together. Lightning still had blood in the creases of her nails from when she had been doing just the same.

Lightning could feel her lips turn downwards, hands curling in the sleeves of her shirt. "You should at least lay down."

"Hmm… I may be persuaded to do that."

Lightning lifted a brow. "Persuaded by?"

"Do I get a snuggle buddy this time, too?"

Lightning burst out laughing, despite the way she felt her stomach curl into itself and die of embarrassment. "Do not!" Lightning had to stop as she laughed harder at Hope's pleading eyes beneath fluttering lashes, "call me that!"

"I guess that isn't an accurate depiction." Hope clipped his chin in his hand, thinking. "You were much more like a monkey, hanging off of me like that."

"I was not hanging off of you. I was sleeping next to you. In a very… normal way."

"Po-tay-to. Po-tah-to."

"Whatever." Lightning crossed her arms, turned up her nose and kept walking. Hope trailed after, chuckling his way to his room. "I do… apologize," Lightning said, pivoting on her heel to look him in the eye and Hope jumped to attention. "I trespassed into your personal space. Crossed a line. I… should have asked."

Hope shrugged a shoulder, adjusting the corner of the lapel where it curled. "It was rather shocking. Waking up to you drooling all over me."

"I don't drool."

"You do so. It's gross, but also endearing."

Lightning held up a fist, a playful gesture, and Hope held up his arms. She waited until he dropped them to tap her fist into his chest. "You snore like a purring kitten."

Hope's face flushed. "I-I-I will take that as a compliment?"

"I've definitely heard worse."

Hope looked confused as Lightning entered his room first. He followed after, somewhat dumbfounded, hand playing with the roll of the doorknob. Lightning's mind was focused on Nivien's pleas. Her accusations. Hope's wince in the hallway. His work ethic even when benched. Cass's suggestions from atop his overturned couch.

"Play for me."

Hope paused as he reached to hang his blazer on a hook, the garment falling from his hand in his momentary stupor. "What?"

Nivien's tear-stained eyes stared back at her, feeding this empty feeling in her chest. Lightning had missed too much. A gargantuan chunk of Hope's life, his developmental years, essential in forming who Hope was as a person. They were moments and years that Lightning regretted missing. She hated Nivien for having them, as if she stole them out of Lightning's hands.

She couldn't keep casting glances over her shoulder. There were moments and years to be had now. This was one of those moments that she wanted to create. A moment for the two of them. A moment to get Hope to shut up, shut down, and relax. "Your violin. Play it for me."

Hope's brain kicked back to life and he scrambled to pick his jacket back up. He stood, twisting it in his hands as his expression became inscrutable. "Why?"

"Because I want to hear you."

Hope hesitated, focusing himself on hanging his clothing and shucking his boots, lining them up neatly. He kicked aside the pile of his clothes from the previous day. Then he had nothing except Lightning's expectant stare, because she didn't understand his twittering nervousness. "…It's been forever and a day since I've held that thing."

Lightning replied by sitting resolutely on his bed, an audience of one. "I don't care if you sound like rocks in a blender. I want… I want to hear your sound."

Hope stood stiff, one socked foot scratching the other as he looked away with a pleased smile. "I'd be honored." Hope moved to sift through the contents of his closet, eventually tugging free a dust-coated case. He blew on it, the dust puffing up into his face and down his throat until he was coughing. "Did I… mention that it's been a long time?"

"You may have said something of the sort, sure."

Hope sat beside her, the scratched and faded black case resting on his knees. His hands ran over the top, the way they did when holding his bandana sometimes. It was a caress that was careful in its movement, awed in its emotion. He clicked open the buckles. His hands lifted the lid. Hope's eyes seemed to sparkle as he gazed down. His fingers scratched against strings and felt along the softness of the bow.

But then he froze. His expression cracked.

"Hope?" Lightning let slip, her tone a nudge.

"I'm sorry, I-" Hope slammed the case closed, "I can't."

_"His mom taught him..."_

Lightning hadn't thought about how much pain Hope may have had to face when staring his instrument down. Lightning could relate. She never looked at pancakes the same way again after her mother passed. It was the one thing that she taught Lightning to cook.

"Your mom...?"

His head jerked up. Out of his weird trance. "What?" His voice sounded far away, drifting.

"Your mom taught you."

"Did I tell you that?"

"Cass told me." Lightning looked back at the case, hesitantly placing her hand on its lid. "Don't you ever play to remember her?"

Lightning got that idea from Serah. Her sister loved cooking in the kitchen, following their mother's ghost around as she connected with her through her recipes.

"I used to," Hope murmured. "It was one of the few things that she fought my dad on."

"Hm?"

"My dad thought it wasn't fitting of a man to do something as trivial as play an instrument. Especially a man of the respectable Estheim family. I needed to focus on my studies and getting into his alma mater, make connections and pay close attention to the political world. But she fought him on it and she won. She taught me everything she knew about the violin and every song she'd ever played. When I mastered everything she knew, we started learning more complicated music... together." Hope beamed, his gaze wistful.

There were times where Lightning found herself despising Hope's father. She knew how much the man had loved his son, saw it firsthand. She knew that he tried his best. That every parent carried their own expectations like two ton weights that they hoisted on their children's necks. But Bartholomew's brand of love was hard on Hope, all the same.

"After the fall, I didn't play again. Dad didn't want me to. Said it was too painful to hear it, that it would remind him too much of mom. I obeyed." Hope swallowed and Lightning didn't like that word. Obeyed. Hope's feet swished over the carpet in a shuffling motion. "Until the anniversary of her death. I snuck a song in while my dad was supposed to be at the base. I finished it just in time to catch my dad in my doorway. I expected him to be furious. When I looked at his face, he was smiling. He told me that I could play whenever I wanted after that. It didn't hurt me to play. I felt her beside me. Even though she was gone, I felt her joy resonating in the notes."

"Then how come you stopped again?"

"Dad died. I didn't feel like playing after that."

Lightning gingerly swept her fingers along Hope's, teasing the edges until he snorted and grabbed hold of her hand. "I'd still like to hear you. In the future. When it's not so painful."

Hope heaved a gusty sigh, then looked down at her, gratitude in the width of his smile. "I will. I want to play for you." Hope flicked the case back open. Lightning gazed back upon the instrument, wondering over comments and compliments until she decided to remain in silent observation. She knew nothing of instruments or musicians, alien to that world. He plucked along the strings, hearing their _twip_ and _twang_. He spent time adjusting the knobs on the end, and rubbing some stone-looking thing on the bow. He stretched himself into the instrument as he stood before her, leaning it onto his shoulder.

"I'm nervous," Hope warned, but Lightning couldn't tell. All she could see was the excitement bursting from his seams. Lightning felt the stirrings of something like excitement within herself. Sitting there. Watching him. She had never listened to a violinist before. She found herself hanging there, on the end of his bow as he lifted it to begin.

Hope lost himself to the music. The way he did with the work at his desk, or in his workshop, all senses focused. He flowed into the score and Lightning admired his concentration, the way his body moved elegantly with the pace of his bow. Nimble fingers played along the strings, his bow gliding with energy and conviction. Such soft, tender notes were played expertly, passionately. He wielded his bow sharply like a blade, yet delicately like something precious. His eyes were closed, and Lightning couldn't believe that he could play like that, with feeling instead of sight.

Lightning found her own eyelids drifting shut, enraptured in the beauty of Hope's sound. She listened closely, Hope's soul taking shape out of the notes, colors floating behind her eyelids in some sort of synesthetic display. There was a current of despair within the sound, drifting in waves of blue, intertwined with arcs of silver. Yet there were notes of hope as pink fluttered with orange, a violet hue of promise bursting forth. It was the kind of hope that could only be found when stuck beneath the tide, struggling to surface, and all you see is the sky.

It awakened a yearning in Lightning. Left her feeling brutally torn open and caught in the powerful current that Hope had created. She could feel him, herself, circling around and around until they felt like the same person, connected and intertwined. Lightning remembered music, how it used to make her feel when she would dance, light on her feet, in her heart.

Fingers brushed over her cheek. Lightning opened her eyes to the green of Hope's. The song had come to a close. Lightning could still feel it sifting through her chest, rifling through her past. "If my music was bad enough to reduce you to tears, you could have told me to stop," Hope joked. His violin was already tucked away. His fingertips red and swollen.

Lightning wiped a hasty hand over her face. "Don't be ridiculous. It was fine. Wonderful, even." Hope was positively glowing, radiating a brightness that Lightning had to turn away from. Lightning couldn't help but realize that she was only a fraction of him. His brilliance. His magnificence.

_What are you doing with me?_

It was a puzzle that Lightning had yet to find a single piece to. She didn't doubt Hope's feelings, but she couldn't figure out how they had formed. What led Hope's pure soul to her own dirty, decayed one? He had so much love and passion to give to whomever he wanted. There were plenty of people willing to soak it up with arms wide open.

Yet he chose her. A woman whose mind kept a cage around her emotions. There would always be a wall between them, one of her own making.

"Then why do you look unhappy?"

"Because this can't happen, that's why."

Hope's swollen fingertips trailed across her bruised knuckles, soothing as his eyes tried to peek beneath her bangs. "I think I'm missing something."

"When will you realize that you're wasting your time with me?" Hope pulled back, as if his touch was an invasion. "I can't return all that you give me. It isn't fair. You deserve more. Better." She was trash. Garbage. Lightning felt lowly at Hope's side. Wrong as she watched him dance in circles with Nivien. She wasn't good enough for him.

"How absurd," Hope said, his gaze sharpening.

"Sorry if my feelings seem foolish," Lightning snapped in a lash of insecurity. She held herself rigid, protected by her crossed arms.

"I thought we covered this. My fault. I… should have stated this clearer." Hope was quick to tug her arms free, moving to hold her hands in his, thumbs burrowing circles into her palms. "I don't want anyone else, Light. I'd rather live out the rest of my days alone than without you by my side."

"Don't say stuff like that."

"Why not?" Hope dropped her hands in favor of cupping her face. "It's true."

"Because I don't deserve to be with you!" she shouted, raw emotion in her eyes. His touch was scalding, burning into her bones. "You're so intelligent, Hope. You should be with someone that can understand how you think and what you do. I can barely comprehend a fourth of the work you do at the Academy. I'm not smart. I was a high school drop out for Lindzei's sake, okay? You should have someone beside you that's at least half as talented as you. I'm a soldier. I can fight." Lightning reached for her blade, but it was absent from her side. "That's all I'm good for. And you've got this heart that's as big and beautiful as the moon. You're willing to give away all of your love. I don't deserve your love. I can't reciprocate it, I just can-"

Hope silenced her with a kiss. It was infuriating. Incredible. It made her forget how unbalanced their relationship was. All she had to do was sink into Hope.

"How do you feel about me?" Hope asked as he broke from her.

"What?" she breathed.

"How do you feel about me?"

Lightning blinked back at him. "That's not im-"

"Just answer me."

Hope's insistence pulled the stopper that Lightning kept on her emotions. Ripped it free and it dangled between his fingers. "The more I'm around you... the more I feel for you." Lightning ran her hands down Hope's arms, held his wrists. "The more I feel for you, the more I realize that I'll do anything for you. That terrifies me to no end, but it also excites me, amazes me. I thought that I wasn't capable of feeling this way."

"That. That is all I ask for."

"It can't be enou-" Hope pressed a finger to her lips, and Lightning rolled her eyes and frowned back at him.

"I want you, Lightning Farron, and only you. You are my strength and my hope. I wouldn't give you up for the world. I don't care if you think you're unworthy of me. I really don't. It's a load of crap. You are a beautiful person, Light, and I wish that you could see that."

Her eyes met the floor, unable to carry the meaning his gaze was impressing upon her. His words, no matter how charming, were not going to suddenly change how she saw herself.

"I love you." Lightning's eyes shot back to his, her lips parting as that glow came back to him, the passion he had as held that violin. "Forever and always." His hands came up to rest on the sides of her head as he kissed her brow. "Mind," he said, before his hands slid down her upper arms, stopping to hold her elbows, "body," until they slipped down into her hands, held them, "and soul."

Lightning pulled Hope in for a kiss. That feeling overwhelmed her, made her forget every objection her mind held. She would do better, Lightning decided. If she wasn't good enough, then she would do better. For him. Lightning kissed Hope again, because once was never enough. She reached for Hope, fingers tugging at the collar of his turtleneck, pulling him over her on the bed. Desire plunged through her veins and she succumbed to it. She still had yet to settle herself with being physically attracted to Hope. That child at her heels. _Sexually_ … that was still something her brain short-circuited over.

His large hand settled at the small of her back, the other holding his body over her. His broad chest was warm against hers. Her hand felt along the sharp curve of his jaw, pulled him closer by the belt loop of his jeans. Lightning could recognize that he was still that beautiful, innocent boy, just grown into a breathtaking man.

Hope's hand moved to her waist, stretching her shirt open as the top two buttons pulled free. Hope apologized, rosy-cheeked as her bra peeked free. "Why?" Lightning asked, her lips searching out his. She pulled his hand from the place at her side, placing it on her covered breast. "I thought you just declared your love for my body."

Hope's face combusted, and he dropped it into her neck. Lightning could feel his chuckle travel into her ribs, his breath warm down her shirt. "You make me sound like a letch." But Hope's hand caressed the side of her breast, feeling the roundness and Lightning groaned as he dragged his teeth across her throat. Her hands tugged at the hem of his shirt, feeling for the skin beneath. She trailed her fingertips across his hip bones until he pulled himself away with a grunt and took off his shirt. Her hands pressed into his chest, his stomach, shoulders, feeling what her eyes admired. Hope dove back in, licking across her own show of skin. Teeth nibbled across her clavicle, down along the curve of her bra. Lightning hissed as Hope sucked a mark there, down between her breasts.

Lightning raised her leg, twining it around Hope and pressing him closer. Closer. Closer. Until the heat of him settled between her legs. Hope whined against her skin, huffing as he lifted himself. "I feel like I'm being tested."

Lightning slid her foot up the back of his calf. "You're passing. So far."

"Not really what I mean." Hope moved himself off of her, much to her displeasure. He laid on his back beside her, taking a breath.

Lightning rolled onto her side, staring down at him. "Don't tell me you're the sex after marriage type."

"Ugh. Don't remind me of what I'm missing. Not while you look like _that_."

"Then why stop?"

Hope looked over at her, and despite her open shirt and eager invitation, he looked directly into her eyes. "I want you," Hope said, nipping at her nose before nuzzling against it. "But something tells me that we're not quite ready."

That was a first. A man that wasn't ready to hop right into bed. Lightning ignored the sting to her pride, instead taking Hope at his word. "Okay."

"You're not offended?"

"Nope."

"You'll stay?"

"Someone needs a cuddle buddy."

"Don't drool on me."

"Never mind then." Lightning made to get up.

"No! No. Stay." Hope pulled her back down to his side, tucking her head beneath his chin. "Drool away."

"If you weren't hurt, I would punch you."

"Like that's stopped you befo- Ow!"

* * *

Maqui picked the crust out of his eyes as he read over the same page for the fourth time. He had already read through the most pertinent datalog entries dating back to the origins of _Fabula Nova Crystalis_. He ran a bot to check for keywords in all of the Academy's digital files. Alyssa's team was busy analyzing Pulsian scrolls and the ancient codices with their special gloves and itty bitty glasses. All of them had returned to their respective duties with renewed vigor since the Pulsian assassin was killed and their soldiers had been returned. Cass was beside him, sitting like a gargoyle, hunched over a book that was open on his ankles. There was another book on his knee, and a codex open in the crook of his elbow.

"How are you reading three books at once?"

"How are you not?"

"Because I am a normal person."

"Sucks to be you."

Maqui blew a raspberry in his direction, turning back to his work. What his eyes fell on, seemed to click something into place. "That can't be right..." His body jolted up, some of the books at his feet piling onto the floor. "Cass, get over here and read this."

"Busy. Your average ass will have to figure it out on your own."

"Fuck you. I think my average ass just found a clue."

Bushy brown brows rose in intrigue. Cass tipped himself in Maqui's direction until he sagged onto Maqui's shoulder with a yawn. "Something interesting this ti- Ooph!" Maqui thrust the open book against Cass' stomach, uncaring towards the brunet's groan as he brought a portion of text up on his tablet. Cass' eyes scanned over the book as he scratched beneath his beanie. "That doesn't make sense." Cass sucked in his cheeks, and Maqui could have laughed at his confused face.

"That's what I thought, but if you use Casiavoni's translation and then clarify it with Moric's, you get... this." Maqui opened his own document, filled with scribbles of translated texts that were littered with notes.

"Oh..." Cass said lamely, and then he actually read what Maqui had figured out. "Holy Etro, Maq!"

"I know."

"We, uh," Cass hesitated, his voice shaky as he took the tablet from Maqui's hands, "We have to be a hundred percent sure of this, though. If we're wrong, we could end up starting an entirely new war. If we're right... then we know which fal'Cie is behind this."

"Belphagor," whispered Maqui, shrinking under the weight of this knowledge.

"You know what that means, don't you?"

Maqui jumped off of the couch, books flying as he scrambled to find his comm. "I'm calling Hope."

* * *

Lightning woke before Hope. She breathed in his scent, ran her hand over the knots in his finely textured hair. His breathing had a quiet rumble to it. She hadn't been kidding when she said he purred in his sleep. Morning seeped in through the blinds. The sky blushed with dawn outside. Hope's comm vibrated at his side, skittering across the table. Lightning clicked it quiet, settling her head on her arm as she watched over his sleep.

Her chest throbbed from Hope's swelling bites, and Lightning rubbed her palm over them. "Not ready, huh?" Lightning said quietly. Her hand ghosted over Hope's face, her thumb brushing under his eye. "What are we waiting for, then?" Hope was still shirtless, and she let her hand linger over his skin, the backs of her bruised knuckles drifting over the definition of his muscles.

Lightning would sometimes imagine the scars. Had Hope not reawakened his brand. Had he not healed his wounds and hidden his trauma away from the world and himself. She could imagine the tender, roped skin. Raised bumps and ridges. Starbursts of color left on ghost-pale skin. A disfigured smile and hair that could no longer grow. Limbs long gone.

Would he have been able to work again? Spend hours combing over reports? Souder together pieces of machinery in the workshop? Would he have been able to enjoy the little things in life? Gardening in tribute to his late mother? Holding his violin and playing each and every note with the glorious wonder that was his soul? Would he still have been able to smile as brightly?

Would he have survived?

 _He would have_ , Lightning answered herself. Hope was stronger than anything he faced. He proved that time and again. And in times of struggle, she would help to reinforce that strength. She would give him her own.

Pressing her hand into Hope's chest, she longed to feel the pulse of his strength. She was going to utilize his heartbeat like a lullaby, let his sound gift her peace.

But it wasn't there.

Lightning pressed her hand in deeper. She shoved her head onto his chest, listening for a thrum that did not come. She called out to him, shaking him.

He did not wake.

* * *

Hope stood in the middle of the Agora in Palumpolum. A place that assailed him with memories, both fond and painful. A bench where he and his mother sat in the summer, the ribbon of her sun hat blowing in the wind. The smell of crepes in the air from the nearby food stall. It was his home. But it wasn't.

The world held a haze, the sky a pixelated, unpolished forgery. A dream, then. Hope wondered if there was going to be a squad of soldiers running up to his back. Bullets flying at all angles, shredding the bench beside him apart. His hands useless. Lightning at his back.

"Hello, Hope."

The contents of his stomach curdled at that voice. He could already picture her wicked gaze and that sneer masquerading as a smirk, her profile empowered by her latest wins. Hope turned to find not a ghost of his memory, but a monster risen from the dead. Her presence invaded his precious memories, infecting them.

"Get out of my head already!" Hope shouted, unrestrained, every vein pulsing with frustration. "I should have known. This is more than just a dream." Hope's eyes looked deeper into his surroundings, scoping out every mismatched store and alley. The water fountain as it was from before the renovations. All pieces stolen from his mind and gobbed together.

"You think I would waste my time delving into one of your insignificant dreams? This is a creation of mine." A smugness perched itself upon Castea's lips as she waved a hand before her, crafting a copy of a wooden chair out of thin air. She sat herself in it, and Hope felt icy drops of fear trickle down his back.

It was the chair that she would sit in to watch. The one that Hope knew the sound of down to every creak and crack as she would sit forward, craning her neck to see, her smile ever delighted.

Castea crossed her legs, hands folded on her knees as she gazed around them. "We're inside your mind. This is a place from your memory. Your home from which you hail."

"How?"

"It's amazing what you can accomplish when you tap into the power inside. The true power." Her hand closed into a fist before her, as if grasping the power within the clench of her fingers. "There's so much there to harness. So many things that you six couldn't have even imagined attempting all those years ago."

Hope could feel the difference between them, had seen it, felt it scorch across his face, and as she dug into his chest. He was sitting in a manifestation of her powers, a realm within his mind. Hope kept himself from cowering in the face of her power, enormous and looming over him like Alexander once had. For one fraction of a second, Hope wished to be as talented, as skilled. Who knew how long it would take him to attain such skill over his abilities. How long it would take him to defeat Castea. One look at her face, twisted with glee and malice and murder, was enough for him to snatch the wish back. He would not allow himself to become like her.

"What's the plan now, Castea? Trap me in my mind until I agree to destroy the world?"

"I'd like to think of this as a neutral meeting. One without weapons, magic, or your guard dog to get in our way."

"Neutral? I feel a big disadvantage here."

_Trapped. Trapped with no method of escape. Again._

Hope glanced back at that bench, a wrought iron black with a hint of mold growing between its bars. He still remembered how he'd curled his hands under his seat, his glove sticking to a patch of gum. His mother was handing him something. A napkin. An ice cream. A box with a delicate ribbon. Hope couldn't remember exactly which memory his mind was attempting to scrape together, but Hope wanted it. He wanted that moment back. Out of Castea's clutches.

"I'm going to ask this only once."

Hope turned back. Castea was on her hands and knees, head bowed to him so low that he could see the white brand on the nape of her neck. Hope took a step back in suspicion, and shock. "Since when do you ask for anything? You're only capable of taking."

"Please," she murmered to the ground, a forced quality roughening her voice. Her bony hands clenched against the concrete, as if holding herself down.

"What?"

"Please help us." Castea raised her head and Hope walked another two paces back. Gone was the malicious grin. Her expression was not cross or coy or disappointed. For once, it held hope. "Don't you wish to see a new world? We can create one. One built of happiness and freedom. No more conflict, no more pain. A world where your loved ones are only a hand's reach away."

_I do. More than anything._

"Your pain was a necessary evil. It was a means to an end." Castea's gaze lightened as she cast it upon his brand. As if it was an answer, a dream, their future. "I thought that I needed to utilize your fear to accomplish our goal. If joining forces can hasten our plans, ease our burdens, then I am willing to change tack. Understand, I will do anything for the sake of the new world."

"Anything," Hope repeated. The word tasted foul in his mouth. It was that kind of devotion and single-minded focus that led to the fall of Cocoon, the deaths of his parents, and so many more. "I know first-hand what your commitment looks like. A girl that laid in my morgue after fleeing your dungeon. I know what it sounds like. A woman _screaming_ for mercy until she had no voice left. I know what it feels like. Your hand in my chest." Hatred, bare from his soul, twisted his lips, making him loom over Castea as a wetness glossed his eyes. "I detest you and your 'anything.' I will not entangle myself in the darkness you lay in."

"Such a sense of superiority." Castea laughed a lone chuckle. "Should I have let that arrow stray a little closer to your heart?"

"You think that by saving me from Aida you'll earn my trust? That that…" Hope choked on the words, felt them clogging his throat with his disgust, " _slaughtered woman_ serves as recompense?"

"I also returned your old flame's brother and the NORA orphan." She dangled her knowledge in front of him with a smile. As if he didn't know how far her reach extended. "Your soldiers were given back to you, returned in the same condition as when they were plucked from their ship."

 _After you beat Maqui to a pulp and abducted them._ Hope took a breath. "I thank you for that, but it doesn't change anything."

"Empty gratitude." Castea's smirk crawled back onto her face as she stood, her hands patting the dust from the front of her robe. "For the space of time that they were gone, they didn't age past maybe a quarter of a day. Your soldiers. A band of children, I should say. They were greedy leeches, sucking on my energy as I kept them frozen in time."

"An enhanced stop spell?"

"A crude guess, but not entirely inaccurate."

"Then how did they dream?" Hope asked as curiosity stole his tongue. This wasn't a leisurely chat. He didn't know the kind of danger that lurked on the outskirts of this so-called dream. He needed to end this. Find an out.

"It's quite like stasis. The mind wanders while the body remains dormant. A fail-safe to preserve the mind's sanity." Castea leaned into his space and Hope felt a spike of hostility draw his gaze to her fingers as her hand was held out. The same hand that had threatened Lightning's life. "Now. We have a common goal. Are our differences that difficult to live with that we can't bridge the gap here?"

Hope's thoughts swam toward Palumpolum. Envisioning a new life as he came home to his parents. As he made it through his school years with Cass and Kori. As he met his l'Cie friends under different circumstances, at different times. He thought of meeting Lightning on the streets of Palumpolum, her fresh from the train, clothes rumpled and her temper even more so.

Was that his goal?

His thoughts turned toward Yeul, a girl whose own life was constantly tossed around by the currents of fate. She fought for this world until her last breath in Lightning's arms. She believed in him. Yeul believed that he could save this world, according to Zalera. He couldn't give up on her faith or that possibility. He couldn't give up on this world.

"I can't. The people of this world deserve to live out their lives. They deserve to decide their own futures. My people. Your people. Stop this. Let them live. We have a beautiful world right here. Why do you want this new world so badly?"

"Why don't you?" A fierceness returned to Castea's gaze, her bark producing the minutest flinch in his arm. "Why are you so intent on standing by _your people_? You are nothing but a pariah to them. Your people don't want you. Those Pulsians don't want you. But us. Why not join those who see you as a deity? Come with me where you will not only be accepted, but glorified. Haven't you been in enough pain at the hands of these people?"

She was coming closer, delving her hands back into his chest, curling her fingers around his heart. He wouldn't let her corrupt his idea of his people. They weren't perfect. They acted out of fear, doubt, anger, love. Those acts were sometimes violent and unjust and directed toward him, but Hope wouldn't let them lose their home again.

"Get away from me!" Hope shouted, his hand flying out with a concentrated water spell.

Castea ducked the water that came in one long, horizontal slice through the air. It cut into the building behind her like a wide katana slash. Castea stared at it, her hand at her throat where the strike was aimed. "Magic isn't supposed to manifest in this space…" she mumbled.

"I will never join you," Hope declared. "I can't stand you. After everything you've done to me... to my friends... to Light... The only person causing me pain is you."

Castea snarled as she whipped back around. "You will regret this decision. You _will_ get the crystals. I will force your hand if I have to."

"You can try, but I'm not going to help you. No matter what."

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you. What if I went after your precious city? Reduced it to ashes? What if there were no people to save? I will win. It's what I do. Resist me anymore and I promise you," she bared her teeth, her glare a vicious dare, honesty leaving her lips like venom, "it'll be a bloodbath."

_I will not cower before you like everyone else. You will not win. I won't let you._

"No," he growled. "I won't be your puppet."

Castea opened her mouth before something stopped her. A grin rolled across her face like a red carpet.

One he was using to stroll right into doom.

"As you wish."


	20. Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war begins.

Maqui couldn't get through. He hopped from foot to foot, dancing in place as he listened to the ringer until he got Hope's voicemail again. "Dammit!" Maqui kicked at one of the books at his feet, the binding smacking against the couch. "Answer, will you?"

"Yeah. That's the information we've found for now. I'll call back later." Maqui turned to watch Cass hang up his phone. Cass closed his fist around it, his eyes filled with a panic that Maqui could feel. "Still can't get an answer?" Cass asked.

"No. Who was that?"

Cass shook his head in a dismissive gesture. "Representative Hildough."

"Why? Since when do you call him?"

"Since this is a matter that he will have to deal with when facing the Sanctum. Since Hope, the _fucking director_ , isn't answering. Why are you questioning me? Keep calling! Call Alyssa if you have to."

Maqui jumped to do just that, but the cell flew from his hand, a bullet piercing through the device and sending it flying against a bookcase. Maqui barely had time to secure his hand against his chest, to wonder _What the fucking hell?_ before a voice echoed through the library.

"Sorry, boys," came a gruff female voice from the entrance. A woman stood there, armed with a blade and accompanied by an equally armed man. Both were enshrouded in familiar black cloaks.

"No…" Maqui whispered through quivering lips.

Cass moved forward, golden triple barrel revolver aimed toward the two. "Who are you and what do you want?"

The woman didn't blink at the question, just moved forward, uninhibited by the threat. Before she could take three steps, Cass pulled the trigger twice, aiming right between her eyes. A hefty blade swung through the air, blocking the bullets from their target and causing them to ricochet away. Cass had to duck one of his own bullets as it came back at him.

"I don't think so, little man." The grey-haired man accompanying the woman pulled his sword back at his side as he gained a fighting stance.

Maqui stood still, wincing as one of the blocked bullets whizzed past his ear. He could feel his heart pulsing with a jackrabbit fervor in his chest. He held his hand over it, squeezing the fabric of his shirt. Trying to contain it, quell it, before he died right there of a heart attack. Those robes. Those faces. Maqui was useless, his hands empty. Not like Cass. The teen was ready and willing to fight, courage in his stance and the heft of his stare.

"They're Castea's men," Cass whispered quickly. "We're no match for them. You're unarmed and I have a limited stock of bullets on me. We have to get out of here."

Maqui's fists tightened. These were the people that stole his friends, beat him until he couldn't move, and laughed at his helplessness.

_I will not run and hide this time._

"Oi!" Two chakrams swung out from the direction of the call. The woman ducked the curved arc of the first one. The man batted the second away as if it were a fly. "Need a little assistance?" Zalera jumped to catch her chakrams as they returned. She came to stand before Cass and Maqui, and Maqui would never admit how relieved he felt to be facing her back.

* * *

Hope jerked awake. His body spasmed, air dragging through his lungs like he had returned from the desert during a sandstorm. His chest burned in a raw, bruised way, and he felt along his cold skin, gaze meeting Lightning's panicked expression. He was laid out in bed, Lightning leaned over him with her hands balled up over his chest.

It had been dream. Or some projection of one.

Castea hadn't been lying about her construct.

_"As you wish."_

A foreboding feeling sunk inside of him, because Castea wasn't known for lies.

"For the love of Etro, Hope." Lightning fell against him, her forehead dropping against his clavicle as she breathed a ragged, "One minute. Is one minute for a reprieve too much to ask for?"

"Probably."

Lightning surfaced, giving him a deadpan stare before her hand pressed against his ribcage. "What happened?"

"I- I don't-" Lightning's frenzied concern and searching grasp confused him. "Are you okay?" If everything with Castea had occurred within his head, then why did Lightning look like she did when he woke in the hospital. He was still at home, right?

"Me? You were the one that didn't have a pulse a minute ago. I was performing CPR when you nearly threw me from the bed."

That explained the forceful, throbbing feeling of his chest. Hope rubbed his knuckles against his chest, wide-eyed, unblinking. He could only wonder if that was what the abducted crew had endured in their time-stopped sleep. "We don't have time for this," Hope decided, sitting up and reaching for his comm. "Listen, Light. Castea's coming. She plans on attacking the city with everything she's got. We have to-"

The first strike hit with a thunderous blast that shook the room. Hope's bed rumbled, his body falling over into Lightning as his furniture shook and his belonging's crashed to the ground. A bright streak lit across the sky outside of his window, and Hope's eyes barely had time to trace the smoke trail before there was another explosion and the shaking continued.

It was already starting.

* * *

Pyres of smoke rose into the sky. Explosions rocked the city, one earth-shaking, bone-quaking boom after another. Screams pierced through the air, shouts cut off as bullets struck and bodies fell to the ground. Blood streaked the streets as missiles streaked the skies. Buildings toppled into each other. Inhabited structures crumbled above, leaving the city in a fiery, dust-fogged haze. Bodies of civilians and soldiers alike laid in the streets, their blood mixing on the pavement. Havoc and turmoil ruled Academia, and it had only been twenty minutes.

"You shouldn't be out here, Gadot!" Yuj shoved against the man's massive chest, stumbling over rubble and hands of the dead. "Get back to your room until the hospital is evac'ed."

"I'm not going to watch our home fall," Gadot yelled, grabbing hold of Yuj's wrists and swinging him effortlessly out of the way of falling glass as windows shattered above. "This can't be happening."

Dozens of ships hovered in the sky. Men dropped down, falling into the puddle of purple sparks that their grav-con units activated. The soldiers held their guns to their chest, shooting down any Academia citizen and soldier that their sights found. It was like the hanging edge all over again. Yuj took an involuntary step back, his body numbly finding Gadot's. The screams of the dying purge victims filled his ears once again, the event still existing as a traumatic stain on his psyche. NORA banned together to save those people, filled them with hope of survival and freedom just to watch them fall into a pit of darkness. Yuj hated how the mistakes of the past seemed doomed to repeat.

"Watch out!"

Yuj found himself eating dirt as he was shoved to the ground. With a cough, Yuj batted his eyelashes against the fuzz of gray to find Gadot standing against an enemy. A mark stood out on the unidentified man's chest, peeking out above the buttons of his shirt.

"You bastards," Gadot growled, his fists balled, but he wasn't' the brawler of their group. He snagged an assault rifle from one of the dead by his feet. "I'm not letting you get away with what you've done." Bullets tore from Gadot's gun, but they didn't get far. They ricocheted off of the man's protect barrier.

"I think I liked you better asleep," the man replied, leveling his own gun at Gadot.

Yuj moved on instinct. Scrambling up from the dirt, he pulled a knife from his boot and thrust it into the back of the l'Cie's skull before he could be noticed. Yuj yanked the knife back out with a firm tug, watching the man fall to the ground. "Are you just going to stand there?" Yuj cried.

"Yuj! Gadot!" Both turned to spot Nivien, Olly, and a handful of GC officers and operatives approaching. "Those are Sanctum ships," Nivien shouted over the roar of explosions and the whirr of engines overhead. "Are we now at war with Sanctum City?"

Yuj's gaze fell to the man that he had just slain. "I think this is the same war that we've been fighting for a while now." He knelt down, using the tip of his bloodied knife to pull open the man's shirt and reveal more of his brand. "That's a l'Cie."

"They're working with them?" Olly's eyes went wide as he ducked a shot. The bullet struck the soldier behind him, the back of the woman's head exploding with blood and brain matter before she fell.

Nivien took aim and gunned the shooter down with her gunblade, bullets pocking the ground through the man's body long after he was dead. She gave a satisfied grunt before dropping her sight. "Appears so. Orders were to get all civilians and injured to the bunker and try to drive these guys out. There was nothing about who the enemy was, but that doesn't seem hard to deduce." Her gaze swiveled around their group in a cursory check before she dropped her weapon just enough to grip Olly's shoulder. "You okay, little brother?"

Olly's grip tightened on his weapon, stilling the shake of his hands. "All good, Lieutenant. Ready and willing to shoot."

Nivien blinked back. "But. You-"

"That's right, soldier," Gadot laughed, raising his gun in the air as he came to the center of the group. "Let's give these guys hell. We aren't gonna sit back and take it, right?"

"Right," Olly confirmed with a determined smile, his stiff, concrete frame loosening.

"Anyone hear a status on the director?" Nivien asked.

"I wouldn't worry about Hope too much," Yuj replied with a chuckle. "Lightning's got him."

A ship pulled up over the groups' heads, its massive body blocking out the sun as its engine roared. A few dozen men rained down upon them.

And like that, another battle began.

* * *

Hope could feel his heart beat with every blast that tore apart the city. Strained, slow, agonized beats. Struggling more with each blow. Devastation pulsed within his body, curdling his bloodstream.

Catching his Airwing as it swung back towards him, Hope watched his faceless, nameless opponent fall to the ground. Lightning finished him off before he could stand, skewering him in the chest with her gunblade. With that, the last of the group that had ascended upon them from the skies were neutralized. Hope's eyes trailed across the bodies, to the blood dripping from Lightning's blade, to the smear of blood and hair left on his boomerang from that last attack. There were grunts and groans at his back. Hope turned, watching as the survivors of his assigned guard were being treated.

Another _boom_ rocked the earth, and Hope felt it marrow-deep. A building not three blocks away succumbed to its injuries as it crumbled, piece by piece, until the entire structure fell to the ground, a waterfall of stone and glass cascading down as smoke whooshed up. Hope couldn't see the wreckage below, but he could hear the screams, horns honking, the sounds of tires screeching and cars crunching together. The sight sunk Hope to his knees, his boomerang falling from his grasp.

Castea's words howled back at him as vengeful as gunfire. This was his choice. A burning, bleeding city. He smacked Castea's hand away, denied her cease-fire proposal. Castea remained true to her words.

He regretted his decision.

Lightning's calls broke him out of his spiraling thoughts. He pulled his gunblade just in time to defend himself against an oncoming attacker. As he dodged a fire spell and shoved back against the l'Cie's blade, Hope centered himself. He clipped himself free of his emotional ties to his city, cauterized the wound, and focused on staying alive. Lightning wasn't far, utilizing the smashed hood of a car as a springboard as she shot up into the air, shooting down one, two, three heads before she landed. Her fighting spirit burned strong. Hope felt his own ignite in kind. He tore a page from Rygdea's book, taking a stance as the l'Cie came at him. Hope waited until the blade came down, ready to split open the crown of his skull before he moved, jamming the butt of his gunblade into the l'Cie's sternum. It stopped his attacker cold. She wheezed, trying to take in loud, stuttering airfuls. Hope pierced her in her side as she staggered. She dropped. Hope fell with her, following his blade until he could rip it out. He ignored the cracking of her ribs, the way her mouth still guppied until it slowed to a stop.

A soft drop on his cheek distracted Hope from his mounting sense of disquiet. For a moment, he thought of rain, a downpour washing away the flames and conflict. Hope swiped at the spot with his gloved finger, looked down upon the smeared gray sheen left behind. More soft drops landed, light as snow on his face, tangling in his lashes. Hope's eyes searched the skies, watching as powdery flakes drifted in the air. Ashes. They fell from the burning buildings, tiny fragments dropping from the billowing, black smoke.

Hope had to center himself again, stop his heart from reacting as he thought of the ash being from more than just burnt structures. Burnt skin. Burnt hair. Bones burning like kindling. Hands reaching out-

Lightning was standing atop a pile of rubble, bright blues searching. Hope approached, taking Lightning's free hand to pull her away. The sudden recoil of her touch offset Hope, and he fell back down the few steps from the pile.

Lightning's gaze turned glacial, looking at him.

"S-sorry," Lightning said, her eyes blinking rapidly as she shifted in her stance. "Got to keep sharp out here."

Hope nodded, swallowing against that feeling inside of him. The one that lingered, reminding him of how small he once was at her feet. A burden in combat.

There was a muffled shout from nearby, and Hope ran toward it, diving into a plume of white smoke. The shouts continued, a series of _tumps_ following. Hope struggled forward, listening. Within the cloud of smoke was an overturned car. A little girl was in the back, beating her hands against the window.

"Back up from the glass!" Hope shooed the girl to the other side of the car with his hand. She responded with a frantic nod, scooting herself across the bent up metal of the roof as far as she could. "Cover your eyes!" Hope waited until she did just that before slamming the hilt of his gunblade into the window. The glass cracked. Another slam saw that it shattered. Hope carefully maneuvered himself inside. He could feel the sting as a piece of protruding glass nicked his ear, but he kept his face clear of pain, annihilating any traces of fear as he held out his arms toward this tiny girl. She jumped into his arms, and Hope tucked her against his chest.

Hope pulled her away from the site, already calculating the fastest route to safety. There was an adamant tug on his Academy coat. The girl squirmed in his hold, drawing Hope's attention to her plight. "What is it? Are you okay?" Hope set the girl down to check her for injuries, but she bolted back to the car, returning to tug fervently on the driver's side door. A man was in the front seat, smashed between the steering wheel and the roof of the car, unmoving.

Hope could see the fear in her eyes. The distress. He remembered reaching out a hand, grasping into the dark.

The door was dented in. Hope tried to pry the door open, pulling with every ounce of his strength. The girl was trying too, at his side, her little fingers turning purple with the tension. With a groan of protest, the door sprang open. Hope panted, wiping at his brow. The girl wasted no time, running to the man, pulling on his arm. She shoved herself in the car, putting her arms around his waist as she attempted to pull the upside down man out.

"Please! Please, Daddy, c'mon! We gotta get outta here!" She pulled so hard on him that she fell backwards, the strap to her overalls snapping as she rolled onto her backside. She sat up with clenched fists and teary eyes. She looked at Hope with those eyes. "You gotta help him!"

The man was beyond saving, but how could he tell that to a child? Hope pushed himself up, praying as he yanked off his fraying glove to feel for a pulse in his neck, then his wrist. When there was no response, Hope sat back on his heels, waiting for the man to cough, breathe, move, something. There were no signs of life. "I'm sorry, but..."

"No!" she screamed, pushing him away and lying beside her father, embracing his body against hers as she sobbed into his shirt. "Not daddy, too..."

_Another orphan._

Hope let the girl have her moment, one he had with his own father, one that was stolen from him with his mother. Another blast caused the ground to shift beneath his feet, the pavement cracking. Time was up. Hope trudged forward. He reached for the girl who swatted at his hands, shrieking at him, holding onto her father's arm with bruised fingers. Hope fought against his nature, tugging the girl free as he disentangled her fingers and forced her away. She kicked and hit Hope, biting his hand, his chin as she struggled to get back to the car.

"He's gone, okay? We have to get you out of here."

She stilled in his hold, her teeth pulling free from his chin as her tears ran fierce. "I just want my daddy," she cried.

"I know. I want mine, too."

She sobbed in his arms, looking back as Hope walked away. She clung to him. He could feel her shaking with the force of her grief. She wiped her nose on the front of her shirt before she asked, quietly, heartbreakingly, "You lost your daddy, too?"

Hope had to breathe through that one.

"Yes. I lost my daddy, too. I know you're sad and I know you don't want to leave him, but what was your daddy doing before you... got in an accident?"

"...He said he had to get me to a safe place."

Smiling warmly at the girl, Hope pushed a lock of her wavy violet hair from her wet and sticky face. "Right. Your daddy wanted you safe, so that's what we're going to do. Get you someplace safe."

She accepted with a slow nod. "What about daddy?"

"He's..."

 _Dead. But what about the body?_ Hope would have given anything to find his mother's remains. To have a burial. Put her to rest with the rest of the fallen. Hope couldn't give this girl that. He couldn't carry a body, or preserve it until the battle was over. This could be her final goodbye.

"I-"

"He's already safe," the girl mumbled.

"What?"

Her chapped lips cracked into a small, subdued smile. "Daddy's with mommy now. They're both safe. They're both together. That's just his body. Daddy doesn't need it anymore."

Hope stared down at the child in his arms, astonished and dumbfounded and stupefied. "Where did you learn that?"

"Daddy told me that when mommy died," she said in a forced, disapproving tone, as if Hope should have known that. "Daddy told me mommy died in the fall... and even though we didn't have her body to bury, that that was all right. It was just a body. She doesn't need it anymore. Mommy's spirit is free and her soul is safe. She's in Etro's land with grandpa and grams."

Taking in a sharp breath, Hope wrestled with his own thoughts about death, wishing he could reconcile his feelings as easily as she. Was it that simple? Death was like giving your loved ones over to Etro?

"What's your name?"

"Hope. My name's Hope."

The girl then held her hand out timidly. "Emilina."

With a chuckle, Hope grasped her hand and shook it, carefully handling the swollen digits. "How old are you, Emilina?"

"I'm nine." Emilina watched, amazement sparkling in her eyes as Hope held her hand in his, a green glow emanating from his skin. The red and purple color faded away, the swelling of her fingers receding. Every visible bump and scrape that she had disappeared, and Hope could breathe a little easier. "Wow..." She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Thank you."

"Let's get you out of here, okay?" Before Emilina could reply, a charged laser blast hit the ground a few feet from them. Hope saw the strike coming, had just enough time to shield Emilina, before he was thrown from his feet by the impact. His body landed harshly against the concrete, bits of asphalt raining around him as a streetlamp went down in a shower of sparks.

There was silence as Hope blinked against his disorientation. He padded his hands along himself, his head, in a quick rundown for injuries. His head swam, and his glove came back from his brow with a smear of blood. His ears popped and there was a ringing sound that made his head throb worse. He looked back down at his hand. It felt lighter.

_Emilina._

She was no longer in his arms. Hope spun around, looking, looking, looking, but not finding. Bullets rang out. Buildings toppled into each other. A hoverbike flew over his head in an arc before slamming into a parked van. This was no place for her to be, lost and grieving. An urgency to find her skyrocketed through him, but the throbbing brought him back down to the ground.

He couldn't find her.

Emilina.

Lightning.

"Mom…"

Hope blacked out.

* * *

Lightning flinched at the contact. A touch. Warm and human in the middle of carnage. It was unexpected, Hope at her back out of nowhere, "S-sorry," she heard herself say, and something else as she steeled herself on the field. She had almost forgotten what this was like.

_Cocoon was ripping itself apart around them as they ran through the streets. There were wounded all around them. People she ignored because they weren't important._

Lightning felt cold all of a sudden, staring down at the lingering warmth on her fingertips.

_"Feeling self-conscious?"_

Stiffening at the words, Lightning's blood crackled with adrenaline. This confrontation would not end like the last - with Lightning on the floor, brain riddled with images that she could never erase.

_Since when do you invade my mind?_

_"I've been in here for a while, darling. You didn't know?"_

Lightning snarled as she twisted around to catch sight of the enemy.

_"How could I have ever gotten something past you?"_

Lightning stopped. Castea was in her sights, the woman standing inside the bottom floor of a ten-story hotel that lost eight floors against the parking garage next door.

_"You going to fight me this time?"_

Lightning ran for her, ready to do more than make her bleed. She would make her scream and beg. She would rip out any light that remained in the dark pit that was her soul. Glass crunched beneath her boots as Lightning flew through the shattered entryway doors. The room was abandoned, floors and ceilings cracked, a lone escalator struggling through its motions. There was a muted quality to it all. As if the outside world faded into nothing when Lightning entered. Castea stood there, staring, grinning with that smug grin of hers. That smirk made Lightning sick. She wanted nothing more than to knock that air of pride and control out with Castea's teeth.

Reigning in her violent impulses, Lightning halted in her pursuit. The soldier took control with its discerning eye that knew that there was more to this lure as Castea effortlessly reeled her in.

"Acting cowardly now, are we? I thought you were going to... What was it? Ah, yes... 'See if this ghost could bleed.'"

Lightning's muscles jerked in Castea's direction, but Lightning was not going to be elicited into making the first move. No, she was going to take back some of the control that Castea thrived on.

"No?" Castea shrugged. "That's quite all right, really. We'll just stay here and stare at each other. Academia will fall. Your friends will die. But we'll keep on standing here... staring... wasting time..."

Easing the wound tension from her body, Lightning cocked her hip, leaning it on a hand and stood unimpressed by the charade. "When Hope said that you could talk, he wasn't kidding. You love the sound of your own voice, don't you? You're just another egotistical psycho on a power trip. I've dealt with your type before. You're a dime a dozen."

"Trying to ruffle my feathers. Bravo." Castea applauded Lightning with a slow golf clap. She lowered her hands to her sides as she stared Lightning down, steel grey eyes boring into icy blue.

Something changed in the air, a crackling as if the space between them grew charged. Lightning sensed the shift, swinging her gunblade up to parry the icicles that formed out of thin air and shot in her direction. The ice shattered against her blade, bits ricocheting to nick along her limbs. Then Castea was in front of her. An arm's reach away with that unbearable smirk. Lightning lunged for her before being blown back by the blast of a water spell. The water engulfed her, filling her lungs, stinging her eyes. She thought to fight against the force, twist herself out of its pull, but her body was slammed back against something so hard that she felt every bone in her body tingle, the pain a half step behind as she grit her teeth against it. She forced her arm to move, hand wiping at the water that glossed her eyes, looking to find Castea still standing there, watching with amusement. Lightning had been flung across the room by her spell. Lightning stood, leaning her water-logged weight against the concrete wall that she had been pushed against.

"Determination may be your finest quality," Castea remarked, "but that dogged nature will no doubt be your downfall."

Lightning shook out her limbs, bounced on her toes. Tucking the pain into the back of her mind, Lightning faced her opponent. She could deal with the consequences of this battle later. For now, she needed to win this. After drawing in a deep breath, Lightning sped towards her target, head on.

Lightning closed in, but Castea drew up a hand, passing it before the approaching Lightning slowly. Recognizing the spell for what it was, Lightning pushed herself harder. If she could just outrun the spell, attack the caster before it was complete, she would have her.

Too late.

The air crackled around her. A chill slithered down Lightning's spine as her body involuntarily slowed. Her body fell into an alraune's pace despite the drive of her attack. Recognizing it as a slow spell, Lightning cursed. Running into a battle with a l'Cie on her own had not been the wisest of moves. It took all six of their gang and their powers to take down Raines.

As Lightning felt the crunch of power on her body as it was forced to submit, she had to face the fact that this wasn't an average l'Cie that she was facing, either. Castea's magic was more potent than Raines' best.

Panic seized Lightning's chest. The futility of her efforts wore down on her.

It hardly seemed worth the fight.

A sharp pain burned through her side. Then another. And another. She was being stabbed repeatedly while she was helpless to react.

_I can't do a thing._

Lightning countered that thought, pulling herself up out of that consuming quicksand that was her doubts.

_I need to win this. There is no other option. Not today._

The only way that she could get out of her predicament was to counteract the slow spell. There was a way to free a person from it from within, but it took immense concentration. She had to slow her body down faster than the spell, regain control of her own actions. It was a technique that Amodar taught her when facing an opponent with a manadrive that inflicted slow.

Panic was the first thing that needed to go. Ignoring another stab to her body, Lightning calmed her mind, releasing her emotions, untethering her mind from the city being obliterated outside. Once her mind was at peace, her pulse began to slow. Her heartbeat became a low thrum. Her breathing stopped. Her body went limp for just a moment, Castea's slow spell creeping to consumption, before Lightning jolted herself free. With one precise movement, time was restored around her. Before Castea could react, Lightning thrust her blade in her direction, aim directed at the woman's heart.

Castea turned, taking a slice to the bicep. Castea stumbled back, blinking back her consternation and Lightning devoured that look. She wanted to savor the woman's confusion, slice it up and preserve some for leftovers. Lightning took advantage of Castea's stun, heaving her blade up and driving it down upon the woman. Castea caught the descending blade between her hands.

Lightning grunted as she tried to push against Castea, her weapon slipping further down through Castea's palms with every shove of her weight. Lightning had no way to compete with Castea's magic, but she knew that she could best Castea in a competition of physical strength.

"I have to say that I'm impressed. My magic is not easily parried. Again, I applaud you." Castea's gaze left the saber and its wavering descent as she looked into Lightning's face. "You are a marvelous fighter. You have a steel drive and an unwavering determination to save those that you care for. I was doubtful, at first. I mean," the blade slipped further, and Castea struggled against Lightning's assault, her palms turning slick against the metal, her words breathy, but relentless, "you didn't come for him. You didn't even try."

Lightning couldn't stop herself from reacting.

She recoiled from the assertion, her weight lifting from Castea briefly.

_Hope._

_He was bound. Struggling. Bleeding._

Lightning recovered, pushing back harder. But she knew by Castea's pinched, tired smile that a door had been opened just wide enough for the conniving l'Cie to slip through.

"At some point, he started screaming for you. You were never going to come... were you, Light?"

Lightning hated Castea. Despised her. Abhorred her.

Lightning thought she knew hatred. When her mother called her sister an imposter. When staring Anima down with a band of misfits. When facing Raines as he blocked their path to freedom. As she listened to the high-pitched giggling of Orphan as he snubbed their defiance.

But this.

This was a burning, festering hatred that spread within her. Its toxins polluted her insides, driving her weight down harder upon Castea.

Hope's torture was in the rear-view mirror. The two of them were working past those events, forgiving each other for their own mistakes and burdens. Yet Castea swung them around, pulling Lightning into a U-turn that put his captivity firmly in her headlights. Lightning hated it, hated Castea.

Hated herself.

"I won't let you do this. I won't let you haunt us this way!" Lightning yelled.

"I am not a ghost stalking you, child. I am simply acting as your mirror. I reflect what you already feel."

Lightning refused to buckle in the face of her words, as her wounds stretched and bled under the strain. Lightning kept pushing forward, the muscles in her biceps, her thighs, her core, everything straining. Castea held her own, but her frame shook against the onslaught, skin shining with sweat as it dribbled down the sides of her face.

A little more.

There was a hitch in Castea's breath.

It alerted the nerves in Lightning's body.

Stalling. Castea was stalling.

With a swift spin, Lightning turned and stabbed Castea in the gut. Her gunblade firmly pierced a new Castea that had been lurking behind Lightning. The other faded into a mist in the air. Shock split open Castea's expression as she was hunched over the weapon within her abdomen. Eyes wide and mouth agape, Castea's breath was a mere squeak from her mouth as blood dribbled forth instead of air.

Not allowing the opportunity to pass, Lightning withdrew her gunblade from Castea and swung to finish this once and for all. A deafening clang rang through the room as her blade passed through air and slammed against the ground. The impact reverberated through Lightning's arm, up into her chest. There was no one there. Nothing.

Castea had vanished.

" _Fuuuuuuuuuuck_!" Lightning yelled out into the air, a groan of jumbled consonants following as she felt everything unfurl from her control. "Where did she go now?!"

A chuckle sounded around her.

Suffocating her.

_"Was I ever even there in the first place?"_

* * *

A resonating blast shook the area. Gadot struggled to keep his footing, his hand shooting out to hold another soldier up as others in their group tumbled to the ground. He kept his eye on Olly, his fellow survivor who held his gun like a shield against his bruised chest. The kid was covered by his sister as the shaking continued. A loud screech of metal came from up above, followed by a bellowing groan. Gadot looked up, listening to the Academy building's death throes as it began to cave into itself. The upper floors collapsed into the lower half of the building. It looked as though it was the end for the Academy base, the debris flooding out the sides, until its unbalanced descent toppled it sideways.

"Maqui!"

Gadot swiveled around as he heard Yuj scream. Yuj ran from the safety of their team, scrambling toward the building, arms out, as if his meager strength would be enough to heave the building back up.

"Cover me," Gadot ordered as he gunned it after Yuj. Yuj ran through smoke and gunfire and the spray of an obliterated fire hydrant. Dust and smoke puffed out of the building in an enormous cloud that swallowed everything and Yuj dove right into it. Gadot had no choice but to follow. He coughed and choked as he plunged in, his eyes stinging and he had to continuously wipe them as he kept Yuj in his sight. As they closed in on the Academy, it was like the eye of a storm, the perimeter clear enough to breathe. A chunk of the building broke off, descending down upon an unknowing Yuj. "Heads up!" Gadot dove for him, caught him by the hips and pulled them both out of the debris' path. They landed on their sides, his arms clamped around Yuj. "You need to watch yourself, Yuj."

"You don't understand. Maqui is-" Before the words could make it out, the Academy Base's front doors swung open to reveal a battered Maqui, Cass and who Gadot assumed was Zalera, the Pulsian wrapped in a striking green. He had heard about her from his team. The three ran out of the building, huffing as the structure continued to groan in its demise. "Maqui!" Yuj pulled himself free, Gadot understanding Yuj's desperation as he let go. Had he known that Maqui was in that building, Gadot would have beaten Yuj to it.

"You guys are okay," Maqui replied, though his expression seemed to retract that statement as he looked them over.

"Dude!" Yuj grabbed Maqui and pulled him in for a hug, clapping him on the back as he pulled away. "I thought you were a goner."

"Heh, so did I."

"What's going on?" Zalera asked. She held chakrams in each hand, and Gadot's eyes lingered on the blood stains.

"Castea's attacked," Nivien replied as she retracted her blade into gun mode, "and she's working with Sanctum City."

"So you know?" Maqui's face pinched, the way it did back when they were in the orphanage and an older kid would beat him to an answer.

Gadot picked himself up from the ground, retrieving his rifle. "It hasn't been confirmed. Wait- How'd _you_ know that?"

Another explosion bellowed from East Academia followed by another in the west. Cass sucked in a breath and holstered his weapon as he fished his phone from his pocket. "It doesn't matter now. We know. I have to call Kori."

They came under another barrage of gunfire, and an ally soldier at Olly's side went down. More Sanctum soldiers were charging toward them. The group huddled around Cass, circling him in protection as he made his call. Whipping his pistol back out, Cass shot at the enemy as he put his phone on speaker.

"Call Hope and Lightning when you're done," Nivien shouted as she struggled with an enemy, his blade nearly catching her throat.

Gadot kept Yuj and Maqui at his sides, shooting any person that dared approach. His back was at Cass', his shoulder blades bumping into the middle of Gadot's back. He could hear the burst of static preceding a girl's voice.

_"Cass! Oh my Etro, are you all right?!"_

Gadot could feel Cass' relieved sigh. "Yeah, I'm fine. You?"

Kori sniffled back, screams and explosions loud around her. " _Dad's bleeding and-and we... I-I don't think I can f-find him anywhere he-he-I got separated from him on our way to the bunker and-_ "

"Where are you?"

 _"I'm in the square, by that commemorative statue. The ugly one with the- Oh Maker, Cass-_ " Kori coughed and coughed and coughed. There was what sounded like an engine near her before another blast. _"-there's so much smoke..."_

"Kori, I'll-" A high-pitched shriek crackled through the speaker before the line went dead. "Kori! _Kori_!"

Frantic hands pushed at Gadot's back, and he turned, letting Cass through. Cass sprang free, dashing out in Kori's direction. Gadot thought to stop him, to offer assistance, but he had Maqui and Yuj to think about.

"What are you doing?" Olly cried.

"I have to find my sister!"

"But-"

"He'll be just fine," Nivien assured.

Gadot hoped so. As the white stripes of his shirt disappeared into the pandemonium of war, Gadot found himself sending out prayers to the kid and his sister.

" _Guh_!"

Zalera took an elbow to the face before she was kicked in the gut. She stumbled back, her heel catching the edge of a mangled table and she fell. Her attacker had brutal-looking slashes in his chest from what Gadot assumed was Zalera's weapon of choice. The glow of a cure surrounded the Sanctum soldier as he advanced on her, tossing his manadrive aside as he held up his baton. He was on her in the next second, his baton at her throat, choking her.

Gadot lifted his rifle, aimed and shot. The soldier took two shots in the back of his head, Zalera scooting out of the path of his fall as he went down. She held her throat, coughing as she swatted the baton away. Gadot's eyes looked over the woman, her tribal clothes, the beads in her hair, then at the jagged tears in the front of the fallen soldier's armor that signified a deathblow for any normal, non-manadrive wielding civilian. Gadot held out a hand. Zalera took it, muttering a rasped thanks.

"No problem."

"That girl said something about a bunker," Zalera said distractedly, rushing to acquire her tossed weapons. "What's that?"

"The underground bunker was only supposed to be for an emergency," Gadot explained as he kept an eye out and his finger on the trigger. "I suppose that's where everyone's going for shelter. It won't be able to hold this whole city, though."

Zalera clicked her tongue as emerald eyes glanced out. "There isn't a whole city to keep safe anymore."

Gadot could only grunt back an affirmative. He turned back, his eyes lighting on an incoming man in the distance. The guy was shooting enemies left and right as he ran toward them.

"Sazh?"

He was a man on a mission as he shot any l'Cie that dared to get in his way. Gadot was prepared for him to join their team, but he passed right by, his eye on the base behind them.

Grabbing his jacket, Gadot held him back. "No. Sazh. What do you think you're doing?"

Sazh struggled. Pulling himself forward to get out of Gadot's hold, he panted and flung himself around wildly. "I have to get to Dajh!"

"And get yourself killed?" Zalera retorted.

"Daaaaaajh! I gotta get to my son." Gadot continued to pull him back, dodging a fist to the cheek until Sazh had enough. Sazh pulled his pistol and aimed it at Gadot's face. "You better back off, now. I have to get to my son."

Gadot let him go, growling as he did so. He doubted Sazh had it in him. It wasn't fear that loosened Gadot's grip. It was empathy. A part of Gadot wanted to tear in there after Snow, too.

With swift and precise movement, Zalera kicked the gun from Sazh's hand before kneeing him in the stomach. It was a hard enough blow that Gadot winced, the sound loud even in the cacophony of chaos. Sazh fell to his knees as he stared up in anger at the woman. She scowled back at him just as fiercely. "Dajh is fine. Nothing is getting through that crystal."

"Believe me," Maqui said as he skirted close, "I don't like leaving Snow in there either, but she's right. This is where being stuck in crystal is good for them."

"For now, we need to focus on finding the director," Nivien urged, a hint of exasperation in her tone.

"Hope's missing again?" Sazh asked, leaping into panic.

"Not like that," Gadot replied, holding his hand out for Sazh this time. "At least I hope not. He's MIA, for now. No one can seem to locate him in this mess."

"Honestly. What were those uniforms for?" Nivien grumbled before speaking up. "The unit guarding him went dark. He was last seen with Sergeant Farron."

"We should call them both," Zalera recommended.

"And catch a bullet for our troubles?" Sazh remarked. "Have you seen the mess we're standing in right now?"

"NORA's got you. We'll cover." Gadot gave them a nod and an awkward salute with his too-long rifle. "A city without its leader is no city at all."

* * *

Castea held her stomach, hands full of blood and failure. She couldn't get herself to heal the wound, only feel it in every stretch of torn skin and sliced vein. The girl had overwhelmed her. She leapt far over Castea's estimations, and left her with this.

An uncertainty that Castea swore she would never feel again.

Barsilisk approached from where he stood on their hilltop overseeing the battle. She fell into his outstretched arms, allowing herself as much comfort as she could extract.

"What happened with the Farron girl?" Barsilisk asked, sounding just as dumbfounded by Castea's state as she was.

Castea hissed at Lightning's surname, baring teeth and peeling herself from her husband's hold. "They're not supposed to be this strong," she snarled.

Understanding swept over his features, along with a tiredness that was always present. He tried to bat her hands away from her injury, but Castea held onto it, curling her fingers in like it was her lone consolation prize. "You knew this would happen," he reminded her, his hands slipping beneath hers as he brushed against her abdomen as if in caress. She felt the wound closing, sealing shut with the small hitch of his finger as it remained in the hole. Castea gasped, ripping herself away.

His face took on that of apology, but she knew that it had hardly been an accident. "You should have anticipated this."

Castea narrowed her eyes at him. She took the liberty of curing the rest herself. "I knew the boy would progress, gain strength. He had to have been chosen for a reason. But this soon? You should have seen-" Castea raised a hand to her neck, imagining if the whip of water had hit its target. "As far as Lightning is concerned, she should have cracked by now. Maybe we need to give her another push. Her sister should do nicely."

"We won't have to resort to that." Barsilisk took Castea by the shoulders, rubbing them soothingly before he turned her around to face the destruction. She lifted her head, taking in the scene greedily as if it were a festival going on below. "Once both she and Hope realize what this means and their part in it, we won't have to worry."

"This world must burn." Castea looked up at the crystalized Cocoon in the sky, then down, out past Academia, toward the smoky haze of the horizon. "But he will never give in, will he?"

"When has your persistence never paid off? Give it time, my dear."

She nodded in his arms. Castea turned back toward him, lifting herself on her toes to peck him on the lips. "You'll stay by my side, right? When I stand and lead the new world?"

"Of course."

Dull. His face was always masked in such dullness when speaking of her, to her.

Castea's smile faltered, her lips pursing. She gave his cheek a pat before removing herself from his hold. "Of course you will. You have to."

Barsilisk came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I want to."

* * *

They kept fighting. Their group remained huddled together, growing as they collected more people, shrinking as more were shot down. Sazh just kept firing, kept moving, grateful that he had already stowed the chocobo away in the bunker and that Dajh was enclosed in a crystal that would protect him.

Their group found some cover for a brief reprieve. Sazh sat squatted against a wall, still dialing for Lightning and Hope, but not receiving an answer.

"I'm achy and dirty and now I'm wet," Yuj complained, ringing his hair of the water that had blasted him in their last hiding place. "I just had to duck under a leaky pipe before it burst. This sucks."

"Achy, dirty, wet, and alive," Sazh added. "Can't forget that."

"Thanks. Just what I needed. A healthy dose of the bright side." Yuj practically threw himself to the ground as another explosion rocked the building overhead. "Just how many of these freaks are there?"

Maqui collapsed beside him, limp-limbed with exhaustion. "A lot."

"Yo, this ain't no time for naps," Gadot chided. "Get your asses in gear."

Yuj nodded quickly, pushing a deflated Maqui off of his side and grabbing Olly's outstretched hand. "Hey," Yuj said as he was pulled up, suddenly looking nervous, "has anyone heard from Lebreau?"

Maqui's head shot up. "Crap!" Frantic hands scrambled for his cell. "When was the last time anyone saw her? She's safe, right? She's gotta be safe."

"Shit." Yuj swallowed, muttering, "I had to watch out for Gadot. She _told_ me to watch Gadot. And then Maqui. I had to get him. I had to keep him safe because he's the baby and Snow always, _always_ told me to look out for the baby of our group. I needed to keep going. I had to."

"Yuj." Sazh put a hand on Yuj's back, attempting to pull him out of his spiral. "She'll be okay."

Yuj pressed his lips together, biting down hard enough that they were enflamed when he spoke. "Last I knew she was at the cafe."

"I was there for a bit," Sazh said, keeping his words calm, teetering on unconcerned like he wasn't. "Rygdea was there, too."

"Good. Rygdea was there," Yuj repeated. "Rygdea will take care of her."

"You kidding? That girl would kick anyone's ass if they dared to touch her or her restaurant," Sazh assured.

Maqui groaned, hanging up only to dial again. "Dammit. Pick up, Lebreau!" When she didn't answer after yet another call, Maqui about lost it. "Why doesn't _anyone_ answer, for Etro's sake?!"

"All right, to NORA it is," Gadot announced. "We gotta make sure she's safe. Then we'll get to the bunker."

"Right," Yuj agreed, giving Sazh a grateful, but still unconvinced grimace and pulling Maqui along by the collar of his coveralls.

"We're coming, too." Nivien and her brother jogged towards the departing group. "The general set up a command post near there."

"You guys go on," Zalera hollered. "We're going to find Hope and Lightning."

Sazh watched their group head off without them, feeling more than a little exposed and unprotected with the loss. Zalera was about to head off in the other direction, but Sazh snagged her shoulder. "Hold on a minute. We should get to my ship."

"What? Why?"

"These people are after Hope, right? All of this is about Hope?"

Zalera nodded with a hesitant bob of her head.

"So if we get him out of Academia, they'll follow, right?"

"Right. But we don't have Hope. Getting to the ship and leaving without him won't do a thing. Unless we're creating a diversion."

Sazh dragged a hand down his face, a sense of urgency licking his heels. "Follow me. We got no clue where Hope and soldier girl are. Searching for them ain't goin' to cut it. We should call until we get ahold of one of them and have them meet us there."

"Neither of them have picked up so far."

"It's the best option we have."

"I like the diversion idea better," Zalera grumbled, but didn't protest. "All right. Call as you run. I'll call Lightning. You call Hope." Zalera began shoving him forward, pushing him and pushing him and Sazh didn't understand why. Her eyes were locked on another group heading towards them. "And stay alive."

"Something I should know?"

"It's Sebastian."

* * *

Lightning fell back into the wall behind her, sinking to the ground as her body went limp. The shift in position rushed the blood in her body. Vomit tumbled from her lips as she jerked her head to the side. The foamy yellow contents splattered across a plaque that said 'reception'. She stared at the word, blinking away double images. She sat back up, drawing a hand across her forehead. Her face flamed with a feverish heat. Her skin crawled with an oiliness and _god dammit_ did she hate this. Sitting there, victory torn from her fingers and _that woman_ free to do as she pleased.

What had it all been? Another distraction? A fun game for Castea?

Lightning looked down upon her gunblade, eyes tracing the smear of blood. It happened, Lightning could say that for sure. She had to pry her fingers loose from her gunblade. The digits had ground against the hilt with such force while holding down Castea that they were stiff claws around the thing. Wiggling her fingers, Lightning attempted to loosen her hand before taking stock of her body.

The wounds she had taken burned. Slices and cuts from icicles burdened her body. One icicle remained lodged in her thigh. Its coldness singed deep into her flesh, the skin around it already purpling. Lightning eyed it, reluctant to do what she needed to. Her hand grasped around the icicle's body that was about as thick as Snow's arm, her other holding her leg steady. She ripped it free with one sharp inhale, restraining a cry in her throat. She threw the thing away from her with vicious contempt. It bounced against the jerky escalator stairs and thunked to a stop on the floor.

Lightning clenched her teeth, shaking as she held her leg, her body hunched over the hole in her thigh. It stung and burned and _hurt_. She took advantage of the lull in fighting, knowing that she needed to heal up, get over her bruised ego, and get back out there. The silence was stifling until another blast outside rocked the building, the ground beneath her rumbling. She pulled two potions from her pouch, tossing back the bittersweet green liquid and cringing as it slid down her throat. She could feel it numbing her wounds, watched as it shifted and wound her skin back together. The spark of life died out within half a second as usual, healing her lesser injuries and partially healing the more significant one in her thigh. Lightning reserved her last two potions for later, choosing to tear the bottom of her cape and wrap it around what was left of the seeping wound.

Her comm rang. She fumbled for it, her fingers still stiff and sore. "Farron, here."

_"Lightning?! Do you know how long we've been trying to call you? Are you with Hope?"_

"Yeah."

_"Good. Sazh and I are on his ship in the hangar. You have to get him here. We need to get Hope out of Academia."_

Lightning looked back down at her leg, listening to Zalera's ragged breaths. She gave her leg a last smack and lifted herself up. "All right."

_"Hurry."_

The call clicked quiet, and by the time Lightning nestled her comm back into her pack, she realized the flaw in her response.

She wasn't actually with Hope.

_Shit! Where is he?!_

"There she is!"

Lightning emerged from the blasted out doors to find a group of people staring her down. There were Guardian Corps soldiers, Academy uniforms and a few civilians mixed in. Closing in. A sea of fury and fear raised their weapons against her and Lightning's mind shifted into high alert.

"His guard," one of the GC sneered.

"Where is he?!" a man asked, desperate and wild-eyed. He was dressed in a torn and dirty Academy uniform, clutching an arm to his chest. "Where is Director Estheim?"

_That's what I'd like to know._

Lightning's gaze swung over the crowd. _A mob_ , her mind corrected. "And what exactly are you planning on doing with this information?"

"Just making sure he's safe, Sergeant," the GC replied, but Lightning hardly felt reassured.

Another GC held her fist up in the air, halting any more words from the people behind her. Her pauldron glowed with a rank that was a step higher than Lightning's. "We want to end this," the staff sergeant asserted. "No more pussyfooting around the problem. He needs to go. We've fought hard for peace, to make this slice of hell our own."

"We aren't going to let a l'Cie take it from us!" came a shout from the back.

"Yeah!" a civilian agreed.

The staff sergeant took a step closer. "We'll propose a trade. Him," she said, and Lightning's hand went to her blade as the woman's chin jutted out toward the chaos outside, "for our city."

* * *

There was a tugging. A tiny, distant voice.

Hope looked through squinted eyes to find vermilion irises piercing into him. Small hands. Purple waves.

An orphan that needed him.

Hope sat up, groaning at the crackling in his skull. Her hands had the gentle flutteriness of butterfly wings as she inspected his oozing temple. He grasped her hands gingerly, pulling them away as he gave her a look.

_I'm all right. I'm still here. You aren't alone._

_Not yet._

Hope adjusted himself off of his hip, turning his legs so he could sit properly. He laughed as Emilina moved behind him, pushing his back up to help him stay. "There," she said, her chin out and smile proud. "See? I can help."

"You can?" Hope teased, before pretending to fall backward and making Emilina catch him. She struggled to keep him up. "Oh no! Hurry! I need my backrest to keep me sitting."

"I'm not a backrest!" Emilina cried, giggling.

A volley of gunshots in the distance silenced her, drawing her smile into a trembly line.

Hope didn't waste any more time. He held a hand over his head wound, quietly casting a cure. Emilina leaned in, staring too close as she watched it disappear. Her little face scrunched up, the skin of her button nose turning squiggly and Hope thought that she would be disgusted. Instead she said, "You're a l'Cie?"

Hope bristled at the question. He clenched his hands around the cuffs of his jacket, suddenly apprehensive. It wasn't surprising that the girl knew about l'Cie. Even on Pulse, l'Cie were still made out to be an enemy, a boogeyman that could infect a person with a life-altering disease, despite the fact that l'Cie hardly had that type of power. Hope knew that the respect some people showed him and his new l'Cie status was only out of fear.

Would Emilina be afraid of him? Hate him?

"Yes," he stated numbly.

"You're Hope, our leader. Daddy said that you were…" she paused, lips moving as she tapped a finger against her nose, thinking, "the key to our future."

"He said that?"

"Yeah. He said that there was finally a powerful being to stand for us, not against us." She latched onto his hand as if he were the last tangible thing she had to hang onto.

_People do believe in me, after all._

"Arden! Ardeeeeeeen! ARDEN!"

"Jun," Hope whispered as he recognized the voice of the howling nearby. Hope grasped Emilina's hand tightly in his and pulled her along, following the voice. When he found her, Hope found himself choking on her state. "Jun..." Her arm was mangled, bruises reddening her skin as her forearm dangled from her elbow in an unnatural fashion. A jagged gash ran vertically down from her eyebrow to her chin. It cut through her eye and lips, the wound bleeding trails down her face and chest. A flap of skin on her cheek moved every time she cried out, but she didn't stop. She was laying in the dirt, hands scrabbling against the ground.

"Jun. Be careful. You aren't-" She swiped at him, waving around a blade defensively. Hope caught it, her swings too wild and sightless to do damage. "Jun. Jun, it's me. It's Hope. Let's put this down."

"Hope?" He cringed as her cheek moved around his name. "Oh, my sweet Hope." She reached for him, and Hope ducked into her arms.

"Maker, Jun. What happened to you?" he muttered while trying to heal her injuries.

His help was denied as she shook off his hands, pulling her face back. "Some bastard came at us and I just barely got us away. I had to fight back. I let go of his hand for only a moment." Hope turned the weapon over in his hand before he set it to the side. "I snatched that from some poor soldier who was far too green for this." She held her arm, yelping as Hope tried to touch it. Again, his healing was stopped by her desperation. "Please find Arden. I can't believe I lost him. He needs you. Please."

"I will. I will find Arden, but I have to help you."

"No, Hope-"

"I'm getting you out of here." Hope made quick work of healing her wounds, wincing as Jun screamed. The bones of her arm made snapping and crackling sounds that had Emilina gasping and holding hands over her ears. The healing of her face drew Jun into unconsciousness. With a glance, Hope noticed a squad of G.C. officers heading off. He stood and shouted towards them until one took notice.

"Director," a soldier addressed with a quick salute. "Thank the Maker, we thought that you were dead."

"Please, I need you to help her. Get her to the bunker."

The man furrowed his brow as he looked at the woman before turning back to Hope. "Our orders were-"

Hope pulled the man in by the front of his armor so that they were face to face. "Your orders are to take this woman and this girl and get them safely to the bunker. They are your first and only priority. Understood?"

The man steeled his features and agreed, signaling the officers of his squad with a point of two fingers. Two soldiers carefully extracted Jun from the ground while another grabbed onto Emilina, lifting her up.

Emilina struggled with the solider, kicking and flailing in his arms. "No! Let me go!" She screamed at the top of her lungs and bit the man until he dropped her. She fell to the ground, tumbling in the dirt.

"Fuck!" the soldier shouted, and Emilina ran away.

"Don't leave me!" She ran straight into Hope's middle, hugging him with all of her might.

"Just take Jun," Hope said, waving them off. "I'll take care of her." He patted Emilina on her back, looking down at her and brushing her waves from her face. "We have to find my friend, okay? He's about your age. I need you to listen for him."

"Okay."

Hope was going to call Lightning, already far out of his depth as he looked for one child while holding onto another in the middle of a war zone. His comm was nowhere to be found, however, so he settled for yelling out for both Arden and Lightning.

A l'Cie came at the two, wielding a ball of water between his hands. Hope pushed Emilina behind him, gaze catching on other enemies as they approached. There were seven men, and Hope told himself that he was screwed, so totally screwed, but he took on them all. He slashed at the first and as the enemy ducked it, the man was hit with a firaga from below, blasting him back.

Emilina screamed as l'Cie charged her from behind. A protective instinct flared within Hope and a blizzard spell whirled in his hand. He threw it toward the man and woman that were threatening her. The spell flew towards them like snowballs that splatted against the man's chest and the blade of the woman as she tried to parry his attack. Hope smirked, because there was no swiping away his spell. The ice climbed up the man's body until he was frozen solid. The woman watched as it did the same to her blade, freezing her weapon to her hands before encompassing her as well.

The next handful of minutes were a blur as all he focused on was taking out the enemy. "Get away from her!" he shouted over and over with every slash and spell until they were all dead. He stood, blood-splattered and panting, before he fell to one knee. He felt numb. Uncomfortably numb.

"We have to find your friends, Hope," Emilina insisted as she came to stand before him. She tugged the sleeves of her shirt over her hands and used them to wipe at his face. Seeing the gore stained on her as she pulled back brought Hope to his senses.

He rose, calling back out to Arden and Lightning.

"Hope!" Arden came into sight. He rounded the side of a building, jumping and waving an arm. "Hope, is that-" The boy was jolted out of his sentence as he was roughly grabbed by another of Castea's men, a gun being held to Arden's temple. Arden whimpered and fought before being rendered still with a slap across the face. The boy fell silent, looking desperately at Hope.

Hope stepped towards the man, only for the l'Cie to raise his brow and push the gun closer to Arden's face. "What are you going to do, Director?"

"Not a damn thing." A blade jutted through the man's chest, inches away from Arden who screamed. The man fell as the weapon was pulled back, limp hands freeing Arden. "He doesn't have to." Lightning stood in the man's place, swinging her gunblade free of the blood.

Arden ran to Hope, his face burying into his stomach. "What about Nana?" he whimpered, words squished into Hope's abdomen.

"Jun's safe, Arden. She's safe." Hope wrapped an arm around Arden as he stared at Lightning. Their eyes met, and Hope felt himself ease. A moment stretched too long between them, a private, protracted moment as they held each other's gazes.

"Collecting kids now?" Lightning asked with a lift of her brow.

Hope smiled as he ran his fingers through both Arden's and Emilina's hair. "I'm glad you're okay, Light."

"Zalera called. She's with Sazh. They think we need to get you out of here and I agree."

"What about everyone else? I won't run away."

Lightning rolled her eyes and Hope expected a reprimand, some speech about his safety and importance. Instead she kissed him, square on the lips, in public. "You're getting these monsters away from them." Lightning glanced down, leading Hope to look at the two growths on his sides. "They want you or they want you to go after the crystals. Either way, you're giving them what they want. They'll leave this city in favor of following us."

"All right, let's get you two safe," Hope suggested, rubbing the two kids' backs.

"Wait, she's hurt!" Arden sprang away from Hope, running back the way he came. "We have to help her!"

"Who's hurt?" Hope tugged Emilina forward, following the dust kicked off of Arden's heels. "Wait, Arden!" Hope couldn't lose sight of him, keeping his eyes peeled for his ash-spotted hair and bright yellow shirt. Emilina was getting tired, he could feel it in the drag of her feet, how she was tripping over the debris easier and pulling him back. Lightning jogged ahead of him, only to stop abruptly and Hope almost rammed them both into her.

Arden was kneeling over a woman, her body battered and torn up beyond repair. Her Academy uniform was soaked with blood, half of her jacket torn and missing. Her choppy brown hair was a sweaty, bloody mess, and Hope almost didn't recognize her.

It was Officer Mires.

She smiled lazily as they joined her, choking out a horse cough. Her voice was raspy, breaths thin, but she was as quiet as ever. "I t-tried to protect him."

Hope nodded with a strained smile as he slid off his tie and tied it around her thigh. Her left leg, from the knee down, was gone. It was in such a horrid state that it looked like it had been blown off, the wound fleshy and the blood near black. He held eye contact with Mires through his movements, keeping her attention from the injury in fear that she would slip into shock.

She let out a light, bitter laugh. "We all know I was never a very good soldier in the field."

"You're going to be fine, Georgina."

Another chuckle fell from her before she coughed and sputtered, blood trickling down her lips. "You're not a very good liar, Director." The humor in her eyes held a solemn sort of knowing that terrified Hope.

He shook his head, hands working faster. "It's Hope, Georgina. I think we've known each other long enough to omit the formalities." He remembered her from their days in the lecture halls of the Academy, her nervous laugh and the way she used to dot her 'I's with stars. "I mean it. We're going to get you out of this and to the bunker."

Hope pulled his tie tight around her leg. He could feel the phantom pains of his own lost leg seizing his limbs, his cells remembering what his mind always tried to forget. He wondered if he could heal her leg, gift the limb back to her. His hands stilled as he remembered how he felt staring at this imposter attached to his body. He remembered the agony, the black veins.

"This is going to hurt, but bear with me." Hope made his decision. He would save her no matter what. This beautiful, quiet and unassuming soul.

"No," Georgina said before a coughing fit assailed her. She fell back against the building when it was over, panting as glossy eyes stared up into the sky. "Everyone I've ever cared for has been out of my reach for so long." She raised her arm up, her fingers stretching towards the crystallized Cocoon, before it fell back to her side. "It's been so lonely down here." She sighed as Hope pushed her bangs from her eyes, his fingers plucking ashes and bits of bloodied skin from her hair. He felt for a fever, finding only cold, scaly skin. "It's fine, Hope."

He bit his cheek as his eyes watered. She was welcoming death. It went against everything in him to watch her do this, to do nothing. "You have to fight this."

"I know that I don't understand much of this, but I know that you have to keep fighting. For us." She reached for him, nails scratching against his thigh until he took her hand. Her grip was strong, stronger than her high school nickname of Mousy Mires gave her credit for. "We're rooting for you." Slowly, and with much effort, Georgina brought her arm against her chest and saluted him. "You're our director. Our hope." Her body jerked roughly against the building as she struggled to breathe. Hope held on to her hand, struggling not to cry like the children behind him. He could hear their whimpers and sniffles. He hoped that Lightning would shade their eyes from this death. They had seen too much already, and no one needed to see this.

Georgina finally stopped, her chest stilling as one last exhale drifted out, her golden eyes open and staring at Cocoon as the life left her.

Hope trembled. He held her limp hand between both of his, holding her fingers to his mouth, his forehead as he grieved.

_This is my fault._

There was a crater growing inside of him, deep and wide and yawning, stretching with each new death. His chest was cracking as he thought of all of the others like Georgina, laying down their lives to save others, believing in him and his leadership. Like Jun and Emilina's father, good people that just wanted to protect their families. Hope couldn't look back at the city, a land growing desolate, streets filled with the dead, people who lost their lives because of his actions.

"Hope."

He had to fight this. Just as Georgina said, he had to fight for them.

"Hope. She's gone." Lightning jostled him with a hand. Her eyes left his for a moment, warily looking over their surroundings, ever vigilant, before snapping back to him. "We have to go."

He nodded and stood, his gaze never looking back on the woman at their feet. Arden and Emilina stood at Hope's hip, holding each other's hands. Hope smiled at them and took Arden's outstretched hand.

Lightning's comm went off, startling all in its proximity. She answered, relief in her exhalation and the closing of her eyes. "General Amodar, sir."

 _"Farron, you all right?"_ Hope could hear Amodar's shouts, Rygdea's commands in the background.

"All good, sir."

_"And Estheim?"_

"I have him. We have Arden Rosch and a little girl, too."

_"Can you get them to the NORA cafe? Karsten's collecting some last survivors before leading them to the bunker. DeWald has some news to brief you on as well."_

"Yes, sir."

"You think they need help, too?" Emilina asked, and Hope looked to see a group of soldiers and civilians huddled together, some sluggishly moving forward with injured in their arms. Hope was ready to flag them down, raising a hand.

Lightning snagged his arm and wrenched it back. "The hell, Light?" he managed as he broke from her hold.

"Don't trust them."

"They're soldiers-"

"And not all of them are like Mires."

Hope resisted the urge to look back down at her body.

"I was attacked by some of your soldiers when I was looking for you, Hope. Not all of them are looking to you to save them. Some of them are placing blame on you for this. We have to be careful."

Arden shook Hope's hand, drawing his attention as he bounced in place. "It was another officer that hurt the lady that saved me. He was wearing the same clothes as her and everything! He said that you were bad and she called him a traitor before... before…"

_Before he killed her._

* * *

The sight of NORA caused Hope to clench his hand around little Arden's. The café that once stood as their slice of Cocoon, their safe haven, their home on foreign soil, had crumbled to the ground. The NORA crew and a few Academy officers were digging through the rubble. Yuj was using the butt of his gun to dig through the debris, eventually giving that up to scrape and claw his hands into the dirt and rock.

"Farron," Amodar called, waving them over.

Rygdea was by his side, a stern set to his jaw and eyes weary. He brightened when he caught sight of their group. He wasted no time in pulling Hope into an embrace. "Knew you couldn't have gotten yourself into too much trouble."

Hope shrugged, his smile barely a lift of his lips. "Worried you missed out on the fun?"

"As if. I've been dealing with my own slice of hell over here." Rygdea released him, looking down at the children at his side. "Maker, Arden, you're okay." Arden gave an enthusiastic nod, still holding tight to Emilina's hand. "What about...?" Rygdea asked Hope, glancing in Arden's direction.

"I had some soldiers escort her to the bunker."

"Right. Right, okay." Rygdea clapped his hands. "Who's this little gal, here? You got a girlfriend, Arden?"

Emilina giggled as a blush rushed to Arden's cheeks. " _Rygdea_ ," he whined.

The man cackled before straightening up. "Okay, say your temporary goodbyes, kiddos. We're going to get you both to safety."

Both sets of eyes landed on Hope. Uncertain, lost eyes as the two kids held onto each other. "Go on, Arden. Em. I'll see you later. We have some last monsters to beat before we can join you."

Rygdea led the kids over to the departing group, waving over his shoulder. "Watch yourself, Hope."

"Always, Rygdea."

Lightning saluted Amodar, the man nodding back before she eased. "You said that there was new information?"

"Mr. DeWald…" Amodar gestured toward Maqui. He was sitting on his knees in the dirt, fists clenched, his face twisted with anguish.

"Maq? Maq, what's wrong?" Hope asked, sitting down at his side.

"Hope, we don't have time for this. If he has something to say…"

"Just one second, Light."

"Lebreau's stuck in the basement," Maqui said, wiping a hand beneath his nose, "underneath... all of that. We had her on her cell, but... we think she passed out. That or-"

Hope paled at the news. His hand remained just shy of touching Maqui's shoulder, unsure if his shaky touch would be a comfort or a damning sign of his own uncertainty. He could hear Lightning's sigh, felt her ease off of his back as she gave them space.

"Nivien was shot in the shoulder twice. She's getting stitched up by a field medic, but they aren't sure if she'll be able to use her arm. We got a call from Alyssa. She and Hildough are trapped in the Academy base. In one of the upper floors, no less. And no one's heard from Cass since he took off after his sister. There are hundreds of dead people and-" Maqui threw his goggles across the ground. Hope watched them spin out among the rocks. "What is _happening_? Just yesterday, the city was fine."

"It will be fine again," Hope said, trying not to think of his friends being hurt. Alone. Wandering. Dying. "We survived the fall. We will survive this, too."

Maqui made a little twisted nose in the back of his throat, a hopeful whine like he wanted to believe. "That's why you're the leader, huh?"

_Right. That's why I'm doing this._

"I'm leaving. Castea's disciples should follow us out. You'll be able to focus on saving people when they're gone."

Maqui gulped in a breath to calm himself, clasping his hands together as he held them in front of his face. He whispered something that Hope didn't quite catch before dropping his hands and standing. "Belphagor is Castea's fal'Cie."

"I… guess I shouldn't be surprised. If the Sanctum is working with Castea, then it makes sense that the Sanctum's fal'Cie is the mastermind."

"Castea is a lot older than we thought, too. Like, hundreds of years older. It's no wonder that everything about them was buried in such ancient Pulsian that even Zalera couldn't decipher it. Her and her group are like an extension of Belphagor. His power- Small parts of his _being_ are inside of them."

"Maq, how'd you figure-"

"I deciphered it all in a-"

Hope was shoved back as Olly pushed his way between them. He supposed he should have expected the punch to the face. But he didn't.

It sent Hope to the ground. He held his face, wincing at the throb in his jaw.

"This is all your fault! Look at what you've done!" Olly cocked back another fist, but Lightning kicked him to the ground.

She pressed her boot onto his chest to keep him there. "I suggest you shut your mouth, Private."

Olly glared back as he spat on her shoe. "I don't take orders from a l'Cie's whore."

The next second Olly was being lifted from the ground, Lightning's own fist ready to swing.

"Please take it easy, Sergeant." Nivien grasped onto Lightning's balled-up fist, eyes imploring. She extracted her brother from Lightning's grip and thwacked him upside the head. "Shut it," Nivien demanded, adjusting her arm in her sling. "Never say such things again, Olly. You got me?"

"Tch. Rotten little- Let me see." Lightning's hand held his face, turning it up so she could examine the injury.

"Light. Light. It's fine. What were you saying, Maq?"

Glaring at Olly's back as the two La Salles retreated, Maqui went on. "It doesn't matter. All you need to know right now is the origin of their supposed invincibility. The book said that Belphagor's l'Cie are only as vulnerable as their fal'Cie allows them to be."

"So Belphagor brings them back to life," Lightning surmised. "If he wanted, they could die."

"But it also means-"

"That if we kill Belphagor," Hope said, "we take away their invulnerability to death."

"Exactly."

Hope grabbed Maqui's shoulders, talking in the lowest tone he could manage. "Have you told anyone else?"

"I told the general that I had important news for you. The only other person who knows is Cass. Ah! Cass called Rep. Hildough. Told him about it. But he's…"

"You guys have to keep this to yourselves. I don't want anyone getting the idea to go after the Sanctum's fal'Cie without us, got it? That's an order, Maq." Maqui stared back, bewildered by the command. It wasn't often that Hope got all 'commander in chief' with Maqui, as he called it, and the stun left the man blank. "You hear me?"

"Yup! Yes, sir." Maqui nodded then, reaching for his goggles that were no longer there.

"As soon as we're out and the ships are gone from the city, I want you to put the shields up."

Maqui's nod turned into an adamant shake of the head. "What about the problems? We still haven't worked all of the kinks out. We don't know how to cut the power once they're up."

"Just do it."

"How will I know when to turn them on? The comm system's down."

"Like I said, when all of the ships follow us out."

"But-!"

"Maqui."

"You won't be able to come back…"

Hope's grip tightened on Maqui's shoulders. "I'm not coming back."

* * *

Lightning kept shoving him forward as they ran. Pushing and shoving. Pushing and shoving. She told him to focus on running. To get to the airship. She would handle the shooting. But he kept finding himself looking back, at his city, at his friends, at people who littered the ground, crying out for help.

Bullets shot into a wall ahead of them, causing Hope to turn and take a side alley. Hands grabbed him from behind, dragging him to the ground and Lightning was on top of him, shielding him. Fire whooshed overhead.

"This isn't working." Lightning jolted, as if struck, and Hope could see smoke wafting off of her back as her face pinched. "You keep going. I'll finish them off and meet you there."

"No." Hope pushed Lightning aside, firing off a thunder spell that roared toward its target. "I'm not leaving you."

"Yes, you are."

"No." Hope kissed her, letting a cure spell seep from his lips to hers. "I'm not."

Lightning's jaw tightened, gaze searching before she kissed him hard and shoved him towards the hangar. "Go. I'll be right there."

Lightning pushed herself to her feet and ran towards the group on their heels. Hope hesitated. There was no point in separating. He wasn't leaving the city without Lightning. They would still have to wait for her when he got to the ship. But Hope wondered if his presence wasn't making a bigger target of Lightning. How many grunts on the ground new to look out for her when not at his side?

"I swear, if you don't get your ass in gear, I'll shoot you myself."

Hope turned and gunned it inside. She was right behind him. She would finish those guys off and be right behind him. He told himself that as he kept moving toward where Sazh's ship was docked. He told himself that this was what he had to do to protect everyone.

The whole of Academia.

The hangar was quiet as he blew through, just the sounds of his shoes slapping against the pavement. The absence of sound was weird, he thought, wondering if he could hear a pin drop despite the war-torn world outside. There was nothing. No people. No sounds. Nothing but the click of the safety of a gun and Hope slowed to a stop. A person emerged from the shadows behind Sazh's ship, aiming a triple-barreled revolver in his direction.

"Cass."


	21. Erosion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A betrayal hits too close to home, an escape turns deadly, and snow settles upon those left in the aftermath.

_I'm sorry._

Hope could feel the blood seeping into his clothes. Sticky and oozing. A coldness spread throughout his chest as he stared at the growing stain. He felt himself being grabbed at, lifted with strong, aggressive hands and tugged along. The world was flickering in front of his eyes as he felt his feet tripping, his body being pushed down, straps crossing before his chest.

_I'm sorry._

Hands were grasping at him. Holding him. A voice. Searching.

But Hope could only see the flames rising from Academia.

The people of Cocoon, survivors of that tragic day when their world was cut off from their reach, were dying. Hope wanted to give them a better future. He wanted to give them back Cocoon, grant them safety and peace. Instead there were explosions and fire and ashes and gunshots and pain.

Death.

He gave them death.

_I'm sorry._

Emilina's father was left behind, his life and body a sacrifice for his daughter's safety. The memory of the man's cold skin plagued Hope's fingertips. Hope didn't even know his name, hadn't been able to see his face with the way his head had been smashed into the steering wheel. He was a nameless, faceless person, a body claimed by the wreckage.

Georgina had one wish. She told it to Hope one day after class. She wanted to see her family again, more than anything. It was the one and only thing that she wanted, to free them from Cocoon. It was why she joined the Academy. She wasn't a good fit as a soldier, couldn't hold a gun without shaking, but she wanted to do what she could. When Hope became the director, Georgina visited him, congratulating him and in the same breath vowed to follow him wherever he led her. And Hope led her to her death.

Lebreau was a lost cause. The remains of the café was a compact pile. No matter how deep Yuj clawed his fingers, no matter how many walls Gadot managed to lift, no matter how many prayers Maqui made, she was beyond saving. Hope wondered what her last moments were like. If she called out to her team, to Snow, knowing that no one could hear her.

Hope saw the Academy building in their flight toward the cafe, watched as the entire eighth floor was consumed by a fiery blast. He thought of Alyssa and Reuben in that blast. Alyssa was coughing and choking on the smoke, trudging through flames as they licked at her ankles. The heat sapped her energy, body dragging, but she kept moving, desperately looking for an escape. Reuben had been hit in the blast, his body crushed though he could still breathe. He could still scream, and yell. The roaring flames devoured his calls, closing in, forcing him to face the certainty of his death.

Kori laid in a street somewhere, buried in the rubble. Her last thought was of her brother coming to her rescue before everything went dark. The raging war demolished the body that she took pride in. There wouldn't be anything left to collect when it was over. Her grave would mark only where a diamond studded 'K' was laid to rest.

And then there was…

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

_I'm… so, so sorry._

It was his fault. All his fault. He was a coward, a monster, a murderer. Hope could only continue his endless litany of apologies, for there was no way to atone. Time was not a clock that he could unwind. Life was not a stone that could be overturned. The only control Hope had was over himself. The only thing he had left to give was his own life.

Was that enough? Was his life enough?

Could he hand it over, and be free?

This lifetime of loss, and solitude, and regret. Could he cut his strings and let his people go? If he was no longer, would that bring Academia peace? Would it give everyone back their ordinary lives in an ordinary world?

Somewhere inside of himself, Hope knew the answer.

* * *

"Cass."

Hope looked down the barrels of the gun aimed in his direction. Behind them stood his oldest friend, the person that tied him to his life from before he became a l'Cie. The person that accepted him despite the brand on his arm and the responsibility of Cocoon's imprisonment on his head. He was not the boy that Hope knew, beaten and berated and bullied for his small size and superior intellect. In his place was a crazed man that held onto his gun as if it was the answer. His body sagged in its place, coated in dirt and splattered with blood. His brown hair had turned gray, strands laden with ash. His shirt was torn, revealing a slash to his torso. One of his heavy boots was missing. Despite his state, his arm remained straight, eyes focused on Hope and Hope alone. There was no mistaking Cass' target.

"Drop it," Lightning demanded from behind Hope. Her voice was both a relief and a nuisance. Hope moved a half step in front of her, blocking her sights.

Cass didn't listen. His hold tightened as he glared down the barrel. His face was scrunched in an enraged scowl, upper lip twitching above grit teeth. Carefree purple hues gave way to vicious, shattering violet. Hope had never seen such a look on his once best friend, not when facing one of their bullies, or even when talking about Orphan.

_Wait._

_When did I stop considering Cass as my best friend?_

"What is this, Cass?"

"What does it look like?" Cass snapped. "It's a gun."

"I… see that. What are you going to do with it?"

Cass' scowl softened, and in its place was a wounded look that tore at Hope's fear. "She's dead." Cass' words wavered, and so did his hold on his weapon. He brought the gun to his forehead, slamming it against his brow with a gasp. "Kori's dead. My sister. My sister! My only _family_ ," he whined, banging the gun against himself until it drew blood. Hope's mouth fell open, his feet staggering at the news. Then the gun was back on him and Hope raised his hands in surrender. "She's dead and it's all your fault! None of this would have happened if you'd just died in the fall. If you'd been crystallized with those Pulsians. If you'd never existed at all!"

Hope shook his head against the announcement, not willing to process Kori being dead. She was just a girl. A nobody in the grand scheme of things. She'd been killed for nothing. All because Hope refused to take Castea's hand. "No… Kori can't. Koriandr wasn't- Why wasn't she in the bunker? Why wasn't she safe?" Hope's gaze flitted around the hangar, trying to keep his emotions at bay as everything swirled with hurricane-force in his chest.

"I'll decimate you. Wipe away your existence." Cass' shuttered breaths were as heavy as a bull readying its charge. "She's gone. If you hadn't have-"

"You don't want to do this, Cass," Lightning interrupted, and Cass' fury swept in her direction. She stepped forward and Hope could feel his pulse skyrocket. She aimed her gunblade at Cass, threat clear in her gaze. Hope mentally calculated the distance and the speed he would need to throw himself between the two in an effort to protect them both. "You and I both know that this is bigger than Hope. Don't shift the blame because he's an easy target. I know what that's like. I've been there. I know what you're thinking. Deep down, you know that this isn't right."

"What do you know, Lightning?"

"I know that you still care about him. I know that you still have people you want to protect."

Cass laughed with a deep, loathsome chuckle. "I have no one left."

"You have your father and your mother."

"Haven't you been _listening_? I hate my father. He means nothing to me. And you all gave up on the crystals. Who knows what'll happen to Cocoon now? Mom's going to be stuck up there for eternity." Cass raised his gun toward the ceiling, shooting in an approximate direction of Cocoon. Three bullets took out one of the hangar lights. Glass and metal tumbled down in a crash. "My sister was all I had and now..."

"What about Nivien?" Lightning hastened a response, only to stiffen as Cass' grip tightened on the trigger.

"You're doing a terrible job at this," Cass replied as he pointed his revolver in her direction before dropping the sight. "Nivien will only ever look at Hope. Well, maybe not if he's dead."

"Don't make me do this!" Lightning yelled.

"Cass?" Hope tried, because he had to defuse the situation. He couldn't lose anyone else. "Cass, I'm sorry."

"You should be! I thought… I thought you were my friend, Hope." Cass' anger morphed into something helpless and drowning, looking at Hope as if in plea.

It made Hope think that he could still fix this. He could still reach in and save the friend that he'd turned his back on. "I am."

"What was it that you said? 'He's dangerous. He welcomes death.' Yeah, some friend you are."

"How did you-"

"I guess it's kinda true, though. Not all of us can grow up to become powerful and important like you. So kind and perfect with a hoard of adoring fans and subjects. You're a true idol."

"I'm not going to say it again," Lightning warned. "Drop it."

Cass' lip curled with a mocking smile. "This seems fitting. I kill you avenging Kori's death. Lightning in turn kills me for you. Too bad there's no one here to avenge me." Cass levelled his sights back on Hope. "Heh, like anyone cares."

Hope thought about letting Cass do it. No more fighting. No more disappointments. He could give Cass his vengeance. He could make up for the lives that he had taken.

_"I just want my daddy."_

_"We're rooting for you. You're our director. Our hope."_

_"You're always you, two eyebrows or not."_

_"It's soooooo good to have you back, Director Estheim. You have no idea how much I missed you and your uniform and your sincerity and your dutiful work ethic."_

_"It's been too long, Kid Director."_

_"I hope you know that I'm always here. For anything."_

But it was a brief moment of weakness, worth less than the gil that he had in his back pocket. Hope had too much left to live for.

"Please, Cass, don't-"

The gunshot rang out and everything stopped. The sound bounced off of his eardrums and permeated his consciousness, ripping him apart before he could tell who'd pulled the trigger and who'd been shot.

Was it Cass?

Or Lightning?

Hope closed his eyes against the shot, but when he felt his breaths continue to tumble uninhibited, he opened his eyes hesitantly, one at a time. Neither Cass nor Lightning shot off a single round.

Yet Cass sputtered, his eyes dulling. He looked unsurprised as a red splotch bled through his shirt. A direct shot into Cass' heart. His body fell forward, and Hope raced to catch him. Hope fell with him down to the concrete, holding him, flipping him over to stare into dead violet eyes. Hope croaked out a cure spell, his fingers groping Cass' chest as he sought out the wound. The blood kept dripping. The hole remained. Cass was gone. There was nothing.

Nothing left.

* * *

Cass fell into Hope's arms, the two sliding down to the ground. Lightning didn't have time to worry, to console Hope or help him save Cass. Barsilisk was just beyond them at the exit of the hangar, a smoking gun in his grasp. She shot off a few bullets in his direction, not expecting them to hit, just distract. Her other hand went to Hope, fingers yanking him away. His body was limp, heavy with grief as he stared sightlessly down at Cass. Green emanated from Hope's hands, but it refused to sink into Cass' pale skin.

"Hope!" Tugging Cass free from Hope's lap, she didn't listen to the dead thump of his body or the strangled sound stuck in Hope's throat. She pulled Hope up and dragged him to Sazh's ship. She banged the hilt of her blade on the door, shifting Hope on her side as her eyes raced around to find Barsilisk's form. The door gave and Lightning trudged them both up the grate walkway.

"Finally," Zalera sighed.

"We have no time." Lightning set Hope down in the first seat that she could find before rushing to the front to shut the ship's hatch. "Get us up, Sazh. Now."

"Is he…?" Sazh wasn't looking at her. He was staring at Hope, and Lightning couldn't blame him.

"Not now."

"Right." Sazh nodded, his movements suddenly fueled with the desperation and determination that kept Lightning moving. "Best find your seats. This is gonna be shaky."

"Barsilisk was on our tail, but at least he knows we're leaving. He'll tell Castea and they'll follow." Lightning hoped that would be so, anyway. As soon as she felt the lift as the ship ascended, she fled back to Hope. Before indulging herself in a status check, she strapped Hope in, tugging the belts bruise-tight. She then sat back on her heels, allowing herself a moment to really see Hope. He was unresponsive, pallor a frost-bitten white. His eyes stared out past her, even as she held his face, her fingers sliding along his jaw and maneuvering him to face her. "Hope." She tried to find something to grasp within him, but he was just... gone. Her thumbs ran soothingly over his face, her calloused pads caressing his smooth skin. "Please, be okay."

"Lightning, you need to buckle up," Zalera said.

"Take your own advice," Lightning barked, because she was fine. Hope would be fine. Everything would be fine if she could just resurrect Hope from the confines of his mind. She felt her gunblade being ripped from her holster before the hilt was brought down on Hope's head. Hope's eyelids flickered shut, and he slid down in his seat, unconscious. Lightning's hands spasmed in the air around where his face had been. She turned, cutting a glance toward the gunblade in Zalera's hand.

"What do you think you're doing?" Lightning tore her weapon from Zalera's grasp, heaving her blade up in defense as she shielded Hope with her body.

"He's better this way. Trust me. He'll be better when he wakes up, but we need you focused now."

Lightning swallowed past the prickly ball of powerlessness in her throat, looking back at Hope's blood-stained, limp body. For the briefest second, she could see Cass' bullet hole in Hope's chest, before she blinked the illusion away.

"Any sight yet, Sazh?" Zalera called as she sat beside Hope, scrambling to strap herself in. Lightning supposed that this was her first time in the air as Zalera shook, fumbling with the belt and missing the lock three times before she was secured. She breathed in and shook herself, looking back up at Lightning with a 'get a move on' stare. Zalera's hand went to Hope, holding the strap of his belt, as if wordlessly saying that she would keep him safe.

"Not yet," Sazh said, his voice was threaded with dread.

"We need to go." Lightning joined Sazh up front, taking the mantle of co-pilot. "Fast."

"How fast?"

Lightning buckled herself in, tightening it until her air was nearly cut off. "Full throttle."

"That takes me back," Sazh smiled nervously, eyes drifting over the monitors to check on Hope's and Zalera's statuses. "Everyone buckled?"

"Ready," Zalera answered.

"Destination?" Sazh asked.

"Far. Got any coordinates for that?" Lightning joked.

"Running blind, huh? The nostalgia is killing me."

"Their ships will be on our tail, but we have to lose them. I don't care where we go, we just need to go fast. They can't have him, Sazh."

Sazh sighed, hand rubbing the back of his neck hard enough to stretch the skin, as if he had to pull something off of it, tear away the chains that bound. "I'll be back for you, son," he whispered, and full throttle they went.

* * *

Castea breathed in the torrent of emotions wafting off of those beneath her. The people of Academia were in a frenzy, their minds and morals being eaten away by the pandemonium of war. Confusion and turmoil aided by a loss of leadership led them into a state of disorder, Corps soldiers and Academy officers and civilians spitting insults back and forth. A rift split between those blindly loyal, and those stupid enough to fall into her hands.

"Humanity doesn't need an adversary," Castea said to herself. "They are their own worst enemy."

Castea dropped down from her perch atop the building overseeing the dissension, landing in a flutter of robes that stole the vitriol from the crowd's tongues. "Why don't we stop this bickering here?" Castea met the eyes of the fearful, the betrayed, the wounded, the exhausted, the steadfast, and the devoted. Some drew up their weapons, manadrives sparking to life as enhancement and protection spells crackled around their bodies. Others merely stared, eyes wide in fear, narrowed in suspicion, or glinting with interest.

Castea repressed a snicker, counting heads that she could collect toward the cause. "I have a proposition for you."

A guardian corps solider chuffed and she immediately fired off a round. The bullet froze against Castea's protect spell, disintegrating into dust just as easily as the soldier's will to fight. Disbelief drooped her shoulders, and her gun fell.

"Don't listen to her," another within the group hollered, shouting loud enough that the veins in his neck stood out. "It's Castea! Their leader!"

"She's the one who caused all of this!"

"We fight until we die!"

"Take aim!"

An officer stepped forward, hatred steeped in her eyes. "Why the hell should we listen to you?"

Castea could barely contain her amusement in the face of such rebellion. They thought that they had wills of their own. They thought that they could steer the course of their lives with their own hands as they pointed their guns in her direction. She didn't have the heart to tell them the truth. There were strings attached to each of these pawns. It was just a matter of tugging on the right ones. "I don't know what your director's been telling you, but I am not the enemy. I want what the rest of you want."

"Enough of this," a soldier shouted. He drew his blade, his boots beating against the pavement as he hurled himself towards her. Castea toyed with the thought of letting him strike. It would aid her assertion as an ally, not raising a hand to defend. It would feed the crowd's hunger for a choice, realizing that Castea was not trying to force their hand.

But in the end, Castea wasn't the one that took the hit.

The soldier went down, a bullet piercing between his shoulder blades.

All eyes looked to the shooter, a man Castea recognized from their intel, Major Sykes of the Guardian Corps. "Guns down. Let's hear what the lady has to say."

"But Majo-"

The man held his hand up. "What is it that you think we want?"

"Why, your dear planet, of course." Castea glanced at the floating sphere above them, the glint of the sun refracting rainbows from its shell. Sparkling colors penetrated through the smoke. "Your Cocoon is locked in crystal, trapping everyone you hold dear inside. You want your families back. You want out of this 'hell.' You want your home restored."

"There's no bringing Cocoon back. It's dead. So is everyone inside," Sykes stated as if he'd practiced it in a mirror, told it to himself so many times that he had actualized it into truth.

"Incorrect," Castea rebuffed and Sykes bristled. "The planet, as well as its inhabitants, are in crystal stasis. Your very own director came back from his stasis, did he not? Cocoon can, as well." Murmurs spread around the group, hope lighting in their hearts. A hope that Castea could twist. "Major Sykes, I believe."

The man stood tall, removing his helmet as he lifted his chin. His hair was a dull blond streaked with white, one eye green, the other a prosthetic implant that glared red. "Why would you care for Cocoon?"

"Do not misunderstand. I care little for Cocoon. What I want is to return to the balance that we once had. You all up there, us down here. It isn't a popular opinion. The rest of my kind is ready to strike Cocoon while it's in such a vulnerable state. This is my effort to prevent a war."

"Funny way of showing it."

"This was your director's decision. He chose to fight me. He chose to put you here, leaving you to fight for your lives as you watch him flee into the skies. I was hardly surprised by his rejection. He is a Pulse l'Cie. It could be his focus to take down Cocoon."

"No…" one woman whispered as others voiced similar thoughts of dismay. Doubt flickered across their faces like lights illuminating a village.

Sykes remained unimpressed, so Castea played her card. "Don't you want to see your fiancé again?"

"Major, don't. She's the enemy-" The first sergeant at Sykes' side stopped when the major cut him a curt glance.

"I don't care what this vile l'Cie has to say," Sykes decided. "Don't act like you're better than him. You're not only a Pulse l'Cie, but a Pulsian to boot." He turned his gaze toward his people, holding up his blade. "She's torn apart our city, killed our people. I stand with our director."

A chorus of agreement rose in front of her, leading Castea to her next point.

"And where is your director now?" The clamors and shouts quieted. Castea let her gaze float in the direction of his ship. "He's retreated back to Pulse. Back to where his true loyalty lies. In league with his past l'Cie compatriots and a Pulsian _to boot_ ," Castea snickered, "he runs to save himself. To plan and plot on the outskirts. Would a true leader leave his people to die?" Syke's hand went to his pauldron, tracing the stripes and symbols like a parting goodbye. "He is not your leader. He never was."

The metal creaked in his hand as Sykes wrenched his pauldron from his uniform. He shucked it to the side, coming to stand beside Castea. Those under his command joined them, and soon, only seven lone soldiers and officers stood their ground before them.

"Are you sure you want to remain with your treacherous Director Estheim?" Castea asked, extending her hand out toward them.

"I can't believe you people." One officer stood in front of them, near trembling. "You let an enemy with a silver tongue strip you of your honor? Well, I won't." The man lifted his arm in salute, and the other six followed suit. "Shame on all of you."

"Estheim is either a coward or a traitor," Sykes replied. "You would side with _that_ , even if it meant your life?"

"Every time."

Castea found herself moved by the man's unfailing trust and dedication, almost enough to let the seven of them live.

Almost.

"Your first task," Castea ordered, "kill them."

* * *

Despite their speed and adequate head start, it didn't take long for Sanctum ships to tag onto their tail. A blast from outside rocked the ship forward. Sazh gripped the controls to steady the jerking sway of their ship. With a flick, Sazh switched the monitors to the rear cameras, and Lightning caught sight of two Sanctum scouts and one warship nearing from behind. The trill of an alarm blared and Sazh had half a second to glance at the radar and see the incoming missile before having to react. He dropped the ship low, the missile _shvooming_ overhead.

"Lightning, I need you to-"

"Got it." Lightning switched gears, watching the missile as it curved in an arc to swing back towards them. Taking command of the weapon controls, Lightning fired. _You want a fight, Castea? I'll give you a fight. You won't have him._ At their heightened speed, it was harder to target, and Lightning engaged the auto-lock sensors. Lightning hadn't been trained for such combat, but she knew the basics. She just had to strike down the enemy before they were brought down first.

Her first hit struck the side of the missile. It swiveled in the air before exploding into a shower of sparks that their ship sped through. Shifting her sights and the controls to the rear cannons, Lightning took on the tiny, more evasive scout ships first. The damn things buzzed around their tail like flies, impish creatures that seemed to enjoy the game of cat and mouse as she had to swing the cannon back and forth between them. "This isn't working."

"Use the turrets," Sazh advised, evading one of the scout's laser shots as he swerved the ship in the opposite direction. "The stream will hit one of them."

"On it." Lightning slammed her foot down on the pedal to switch weapons, unprepared for the muscle-tearing pain that rippled up from her thigh in response. " _Shit_." Lightning pulled the ties of her cape tighter around her icicle wound. She could hear the squish of her blood-soaked cape, feel the warmth dribbling down her leg, a fogginess outlining her vision from the blood loss, but she couldn't stop.

_Should have had Hope heal it when we had the chance. I just didn't want to waste precious time. And then…_

Lightning bit back the images of Cass' body in Hope's arms and focused on the battle. The turrets shot out in bursts of machine gun fire, and with one easy swing, Lightning sunk one scout right out of the sky. Another blast shook the ship, lurching them into a spiral that Sazh was barely able to spin them out of.

"Oh, god. Please never do that again," Zalera groaned, sounding like she was ready to hurl.

"Would you rather die?" Lightning's quip was drowned out by another alarm.

"The seal pod's been hit," Sazh yelled. "It's taken too much damage."

"Where's the release?" Lightning asked, returning the surviving scout's laser blast with turret-fire of her own.

Sazh blew a sigh through his nose, slamming his hand down on the ship's speaker. "Zalera, I need your help."

"What am _I_ supposed to do?"

"Whatever it is, make it quick, Sazh," Lightning urged, "Our stock of ammunition won't hold up at this rate."

"There's a lever over by the left side hub, opposite of Hope. I need you to pull it. Think ya can do that?"

"I know that doesn't seem very far, but…" The hesitation in Zalera's voice was understandable. She would have to unlatch herself and move around in the pit of an airship that was swerving through the air and taking hits left and right.

"Just do it," Lightning yelled.

"Alright! Alright! Just- Oh, fu-" Lightning watched in one of the screens as Zalera was flung to the other side of the ship the minute that she unbuckled. She caught herself on another seat, pulling herself up with notable strength.

"You okay?" Sazh asked. "I'll try to keep it steady!"

"I got it! I'm there. But the lever won't-! No, wait, I- I _got it_ ," Zalera grunted and the grating sound of metal signified the lock's release. "Can I go back now?"

"Don't get whiny on us now," Lightning teased.

"You want to switch with me?"

Lightning looked down at her leg, the seat beneath her soaked red. "Don't tempt me," she grumbled.

"Okay. Good job," Sazh commended. "There should be a panel next to it. Open it and put in the code. It's 'three-seven-nine'."

"Three!"

Another sweep of Lightning's turret-fire brought down the other scout, leaving just the warship barreling behind them.

"Seven!"

The hull took a battery of shots and the ship shook. Zalera yelped, but followed with a weak,

"Nine."

The pod released, and Lightning could see the thing drop in her monitor. But the shift in weight threw the ship into a barrel-roll. The ship spun, and Lightning had to put both hands on her flight controls to keep herself grounded. Her stomach bounced up into her throat, her mouth salivating in that pre-puke way.

"Come on now. Don't let me down, love," Sazh grunted, arms straining until he stabilized them. " _Whoo_. Ain't nothin' like some excitement to get the blood flowing."

"Tell that to Zalera."

"Ah, crap! Zalera! Zalera, girl, you alright!"

There was no response and Lightning looked back to the monitor to find Zalera's body lying on the ship deck. "She's out cold."

"Somebody has to strap her back down before-"

"There's no time to worry. Focus, Sazh."

"But she-"

"Will be fine."

Lightning stepped down on the pedal to transfer back to the cannons, causing her pain to flare yet again. Lightning's jaw opened wide in a silent scream as it felt like her skin was stretching open. Her hand fumbled for her leg as her other kept pressing the trigger. Her sight blurred, and she couldn't see if any of her shots made it. All she could feel was the tearing pain and a rushing, prickling coldness as her left side went numb. Her blood pulsed, pounding in her head. Her eyelids fluttered, until there was nothing but black.

* * *

_The beach was beautiful. Bright and sunny and warm. Bodhum's tide was a gentle push and pull, waves making little foamy bubbles that congealed into ruffled ropes on the sand. The water was a deep, brilliant blue. The sun was beginning to sink out of sight within the sea, as if it chose to take a dip in the water. Its dying rays shimmered over the ocean, the light rippling across the waves. Gulls flew overhead, mewing around the clumps of tourists. The breeze held that briny, sea-air smell that cleared the sinuses. The sand was soft and sun-toasted._

_Lightning stood in the middle of it, breathing in a day like any other. Serah swam in the distance, splashing toward a group of beach-dwellers that she had so effortlessly befriended. One kid tugged on the ruffles of her bikini, and Serah lifted the tiny thing up and tossed him in the air where he crashed down in a splash of laughter._

_Content was not a word that Lightning often associated with herself, but that was how she felt. Content. Content with her life and her job and the roll of the days that remained unremarkable. After the turmoil of their childhood, they deserved this. Lightning loved watching her sister enraptured in such blissful happiness. That was what Lightning worked for, her sister's happiness. She could see it in the way Serah let herself float carelessly on the surface of the sea. She could see it in the way Serah danced in the sun's caressing light as the water splashed around her. She could see it in her sister's blissful smile as she waved towards her, beckoning her closer._

_Lightning was going to decline, had a dismissive gesture twitching off of her fingers, but it wasn't Lightning that Serah was calling. Snow bolted past, his heroic grin out and proud as he scooped up his giggling wife and spun her around. Serah laughed and kissed her husband as they twirled. She wrapped her arms around his neck as they spun out, and he nuzzled their noses together, looking into each other's eyes like it was just them. A paradise for two._

_In that moment, Lightning felt her position rot away, a badge gone rusty. Snow had taken her place. Lightning was no longer the one to bring Serah happiness. She was no longer her protection and guide. The hero swooped in and stole the princess away, leaving the dragon to wilt in loneliness._

_It was like losing her father and mother all over again. Except this time, she was left alone._

_The gaping hole within Lightning only began to grow deeper when two young children ran to Serah's and Snow's sides. A small girl with long blonde ponytails gripped Serah's waist as a young boy with short pink curls and a broad grin jumped onto Snow's shoulders. Along with the title of Mrs. Villiers, Serah gained the title of mother. She now had a family. Her own family._

_Lightning felt lost, directionless. Her reason for being had been Serah. She lived for Serah, struggled with every breath to assure her safety and happiness. Serah was her future. What was Lightning, if not the big sister?_

_The four of them continued to play in the waves. The little girl laughed as she was pulled along in an inner tube by Serah. Serah made a chugging sound like a boat engine and the girl giggled. Snow and the boy marveled over a shell that washed ashore. Snow snuck up behind Serah and put it in her hair._

_The scene tugged down into the core of Lightning, and she startled to find that it pulled out something like longing. The dauntless, fearless soldier didn't want to fight anymore. She wanted the simplicity of a day at the beach._

_With family._

_But that wasn't what Lightning was. That wasn't what she deserved._

_A light murmur began to buzz in her ear and Lightning swatted viciously at it as if it were a fly. She had to watch her sister, etch her face into memory before she drifted into a happiness too far from Lightning's reach. The murmur grew louder, clearer until she could make out one word._

_"Light..."_

_The word was but a whisper, carried on the ocean breeze. It lingered around her ear, its softness brushing against her neck in a teasing touch. The voice refused to draw back, clinging to her, calling to her. Lightning wanted it to stop, would have sliced it in half if she had her gunblade, because with each utterance of her name, Serah became fainter. Her form shifted, disintegrating in the wind like grains of sand._

" _Light…"_

" _Light…"_

" _Light…"_

_Lightning reached for Serah, but she was already gone. Lightning's fingers curled around the air, grasping nothing. There was nothing left for her, no one._

_She felt hollow. A shell that bore nothing._

_"Light..."_

_That voice was still there, her only companion. Its call soothed the burn of anger, calmed the ache of devastation, and made Lightning yearn for its owner. "Light... Light..." The voice tickled against her memory, scratching in deeper until it could be recognized._

_"Light..."_

_Bright, compassionate, green eyes. A vibrant, heartwarming smile. Warm hands that were always within reach._

" _Light…"_

_She couldn't quite grasp it._

"Lightning!"

* * *

Lightning gripped the controls as she woke, her head swinging back into focus. She could barely see, her eyes stinging and vision blurred as if she'd been sprayed with boiling water. She tried to move her foot to change weapons, but it barely twitched in the pedal's direction.

"Glad to finally have ya back, girl. I was calling you."

"Like a banshee, I heard. Not really the time for the obvious, Sazh."

"Not the time for a nap, either. The warship is about to take a bite out of us. If you could-"

"Can't-" Lightning groaned, trying to swipe at her eyes with an arm that also chose to defy her will. "Can't see. I've lost too much blood."

"You what?! No. No dyin', you hear? Absolutely no dying allowed on my ship."

"Be my eyes. Tell me where to shoot."

"Ah, hell. Swing ten degrees to your right."

Lightning adjusted, clicking a round off.

"Great. Nice shot."

"No compliments necessary. Next."

The ship shook with another strike and Lightning flew forward against her straps, making her cough out a choked breath. She blinked rapidly against the black splotches invading her vision.

"We need to land, Lightning. Before we lose all control. We've taken too much damage. Decision time. Surrender or crash."

"We're not giving in, Sazh. I'll die before I let her win."

Sazh sputtered, choking out a slew of indignant noises. "You… You're right. You've lost too much blood. You aren't thinking rationally."

"Fuck you. If you surrender this ship, I'll-"

"You'll what?"

Lightning didn't have an answer for that. Another alarm began to screech in tandem with the rest, and the inevitability of their fall was staring her in the face.

"Think about what you're sacrificing here. We can still fight."

"No."

One last blast blew a hole in the side of Sazh's ship. The air sucked her back against her seat, pulling her body against her straps and toward the hole. The ship jostled her violently where she sat. There was a scream of metal, a _shing_ as what sounded like a bolt flew loose and her seat lurched to the right. She could hear Sazh yelling, telling everyone to hold on.

"Hope!" Sazh shouted. "Hope, thank Etro, you have Zalera! Don't let-"

* * *

_The gunshot rang out, yet he felt no pain. There was no new hole inside of him, no blood, no crushing blackness compacting what was left of his soul. Hope heard the gasp, the click of teeth as they bit against the pain. Hope had been spared the bullet, only for it to land in the man in front of him. The man that was no longer his best friend. The man that had become a stranger in a handful of years._

_Cass collapsed forward, his body dropping like the rocks that he could never skip. Cass was good at skipping rocks, had the right form, a good wrist flick that Hope couldn't get down despite his expertise with boomerangs. Cass would never skip rocks again. He was a corpse now, laying slain in Hope's lap. There were more gunshots, cries to him from Lightning. But Hope couldn't move, because when he looked down it wasn't Cass' dead stare that he found, it was his father's._

_It wasn't Cass lying on top of him. It was his father with his back to Hope's chest. Hope's shock wasn't leading him to stare into dulling violet eyes, but into lens-covered hazel. Instead of Lightning protecting him and calling his name, it was Nivien._

_Hope tore his gaze away from those hauntingly empty eyes, and came to see that he was in a hall of the Academy, dead soldiers scattered around him. A deep, unshakable coldness seeped into his body as dread crept upon him. His arms wrapped around his father's body, holding him in place because no one could take him._

_"What? Not happy to see me, Hope?"_

_Hope's head jerked up at the voice. Ahead of him was not the assassin that he remembered, but Castea wielding the gun that killed his father and his men. Her white robe and porcelain skin were saturated with blood, the red stained so deep that it lingered in her smile._

_Nivien ran up from behind Hope, weapon ready and aimed at Castea. Before Hope could warn her to stop, she was shot down by the cackling l'Cie. Bullets ripped through her body, and Nivien fell to the ground with a wet thud._

_"Honestly, are you really just going to sit there holding her like that? She's not going to reawaken."_

_Clutching tighter to the body in his grasp, Hope scowled back, almost afraid to look down at who he was holding. With reluctant jerks of his head, he looked down and found himself gaping at the sight. His father's body no longer laid in his protection. It was Lightning's._

_"She's dead," Castea said, nonchalant and unrepentant as ever._

_Hope's lip quivered as his eyes scanned over the limp figure in his possession. Quickly shifting her in his arms, Hope shook her, pinched her, kissed her, even flicked her forehead in an attempt to coax a reaction._ This can't be happening. You can't die. You can't- _"Please, Light," he whispered into her hair, pulling her closer and flinching at the trail of blood._

_She didn't stir._

" _You'll pay for this," Hope said. He rose his head to find himself no longer in the Academy. Around him stretched plains of Pulse, Cocoon ahead in the sky._

_Castea's smirk widened. "For her? Or for them?" Her bony index finger pointed to Hope's feet._

_"No..." Hope sat upon a mound of corpses, the faces of his family held within. Fang, Vanille, Sazh, Snow, Serah, Maqui, Rygdea, Arden, everyone. Everyone was piled beneath him, his very own throne of corpses. Built with his own hands. Born from his own words._

_"Now that there's no one left to quarrel over..." Castea snapped her fingers and the bodies disappeared. Hope stood alone, facing Castea, with a glowing blue ball of light between them. "...we can get on with the show."_

_Hope stared down at his arms, feeling the loss of Lightning's weight. All of the fury, all of the venomous pain that he had been feeling, vanished as his eyes gazed into the floating crystal in front of him. It hovered there, unassuming and unwavering._

_Hope looked upon the crystal and felt numb. His hand hovered over the crystal, his touch ghosting around its brilliant hue. He could feel its power, its will to destroy._

_Hope didn't have the will to fight back._

* * *

Fire crackled. Smoke rose, thick beneath his nose. Hope drifted in that cloud of smoke, thinking that if he died, at least he died with his city. Covered in ash, hand in hand with his people. But as he stirred, the cobwebs clearing from his mind, he remembered the tracks he'd left as he gave Maqui one final command. He had been running to the hangar. Lightning was behind him, defending him. Cass was-

Trembling hands carded through his hair. They smelled of ginger and orange, like a tea that he could drink in the smell of and feel reborn. He was laying against a wall, his body leaned against Lightning as she held his head against her chest. Her hair swayed with the bite of winter air, tendrils tickling his jaw. Cradled against her, Hope thought to spurn reality, let himself drift in this safe, in-between place.

Hope moved, groaning as he felt along the back of his head. There was a lump there, a bruising tenderness at the crown of his head. "Tell me I just hit my head and none of it happened."

He could hear the remorse on her breath before she spoke. "Mm, the first one's true."

Hope laughed automatically. He moved his fingers, his toes in his shoes. When he held three fingers in front of his eyes, he brought them close, then far, testing his vision. When he was certain that he was as healthy as possible, he took in their surroundings, their group hidden in a dank, iced-over cave. The darkness was staved off by the fiery pile of wood at their center, deep, burning embers popping beneath waning flames. He could see his breath in a cloud before his face, shivering at the loss of the warmth he had in Lightning's arms.

"I'm sorry," Lightning said, but it sounded like an admission, something cruel and involuntary.

Hope's memory began slithering back from the dark corners of his mind, snakes coiling around him, strangling him with their visceral honesty. Yet he had the gall to ask, "What happened?" like it was Lightning's responsibility to reveal recent events, her burden to voice what he already knew.

Her hesitation lasted but a minute, her fingers toying with the metal knuckles on her gloves. "Cass is dead." She looked at him, heaving her gaze upon his as she said it point blank. Her hand went to his shoulder, thumbing a burnt tear that he was unaware existed. A graze, he could vaguely recall. The bullet travelled through Cass and tore past Hope's shoulder. It was the lightest sting, blunted by a pain far deeper than the physical.

"I'm sorry that we had to leave him… like that, but it was our only chance to escape."

"Running on his blood trail."

"That's not fair." Her gaze was as reproachful as her words.

"No. It isn't. Don't worry. I don't blame you."

"That makes one of us."

Hope didn't understand Lightning's words, or the guilt that shadowed her eyes. He took her hand in his, squeezing it and was disappointed when she didn't squeeze back. He drew himself back, noticing her limited movements, the washed out tone of her skin, and the gruffness of her voice. "You're hurt." A tattered piece of her cape was wrapped around her thigh, dark and heavy with blood.

"We have a limited stock of healing items. I took one after it happened, another after we crashed here, but-"

"You are too important," Hope admonished, cupping her cheek, his thumb spiraling warmth into her icy cheekbone, "to suffer needlessly. Limited or not, heal yourself, Light."

"You're the important one," she insisted, sighing as Hope sent cure after cure into her body. He untied her cape to watch the last of her flesh seal up. She drew his hand back when he finished, placed it back on her face. "The destined l'Cie."

"You're important to me," Hope assured. He gave her a light kiss on the forehead as he stood up, weak on his feet. He leaned against the wall, heaving in breaths as he cast cure spells on himself. It was premature to do so, but he'd been out of commission for too long. His friends fought to bring him here, now he needed to make sure that they were safe.

The cave they took shelter in was but a tunnel, the mouths sharp-toothed with icicles as thick snowflakes drifted in. The view beyond was dense with white, the surroundings a blur. Within their frosted cave, Zalera and Sazh laid on the other side of the fire, sleeping huddled beside it beneath coats and emergency thermal blankets.

"We escaped from the city," Lightning began as she stood. She dropped her shoulder in front of him, offering to bear some of his weight, but he declined. "They followed, as predicted. We fought them for as long as we could, but we were struck down. We crashed in the Argodian Mountains. Sazh and Zalera carried us out, and we took refuge here. Castea hasn't shone her face yet. I'm sure she's just waiting to see what we'll do."

"They escape unscathed?" Hope nodded his head in their companions' direction.

"Sazh is remarkably unhurt. The old man will outlive us all." Lightning huffed with an amused tilt of her lips. "Zalera had to unbuckle during the thick of it to unlatch something for us. She got knocked out when the ship became unsteady. We almost lost her when the Sanctum blew a hole in our side. She would have flown right out. If you hadn't caught her."

"I… don't remember that."

"Ever the hero even when semi-conscious." Lightning shook her head, hand on her hip. "Snow is going to be disappointed when he wakes to find that you stole his title."

"He can have it," Hope replied dryly. He stooped to rush a cure spell into Zalera's body, and one into Sazh's for good measure. It was that last bit that drained the energy from Hope's body, and he tipped over as he tried to stand.

"Why must you constantly overexert yourself like this?" Lightning complained as she helped him up.

"Just…" Hope swallowed, parched down to his bones, "one of my finer qualities."

"More like least desirable." Lightning led him back to their original spot, sitting him back down as she pulled more blankets over them.

The promised heat of the blankets drove Hope further into a drowse, and he nestled himself back into the curve of Lightning's neck. "You wouldn't have me any other way."

"No," Lightning relented, and her hand returned to pet through his hair, "No, I wouldn't."

* * *

Lightning remained awake, on guard, waiting. For a footstep. A breath. A sign that the enemy was right around the corner. The quiet remained, winds howling outside in the frozen wasteland that they landed in. Sazh's shivering was noticeable from across the cave as he ducked down beneath what little the emergency supplies in Sazh's ship had to offer. The rest laid asleep, and Lightning detached what was left of her cape to lay it across the reddening skin of her thighs.

_"I guess we won't ever get to that_ Hey Arnold _marathon."_

She pulled her gunblade close, quietly flicking it into gun mode before she aimed it at the wall. Her finger was tight to the trigger, her skin sticking to the ice cold metal. Before her was layers and layers of rock, a piece of an ancient mountain, but that wasn't what Lightning was seeing. In her sights was that man. A teenager four years her junior. A boy. That damned aloof expression, his body slumped casually against the wall. The chain on his pants even jingled as he adjusted his position.

_I must be going looney if I'm seeing you here._

_"What? Two old pals can't catch up from the great beyond."_

_No. Not while I'm still alive and unable to kick the crap out of you._

_"Trust me, if I were to haunt someone, you would not be my first choice."_

_What a shame._

Cass' gaze fell to Hope's sleeping form, and the irrational part of Lightning had her scooting over to lay a protective hand on his head.

_"Heh. So predictable."_

_Why'd you do it, Cass?_

Cass chuckled. It was bright and boyish. The child he still was. _"You know I can't answer that."_

_Because if I don't know, this specter cooked up in my head sure isn't going to._

_"Bingo."_ He grinned, tight lipped as he leaned back against the wall on crossed arms. _"Out of everyone, I think you would be the one to know how I felt."_

_I would_ never _turn my gun on Hope._

_"Tsk. Tsk. Never say never."_

_A brat til the end, huh?_ Lightning huffed a breath, finally dropping her gun. She stared down at her weapon, imagining Cass' expression had it been her bullet. Would it have been surprise on his face? Or expectation?

_"Thanks for being a friend, Lightning."_

"Huh?" Lightning looked up, but it was just a wall.

"Light?" Hope was awake, his hand on her covered thigh as inquisitive brows furrowed. He looked at the wall, then back at Lightning. "You look like the cave offended you somehow."

Lightning snorted. "Something like that." She shifted her gunblade off of her lap, laid it to rest on her other side. She hesitated to look back at Hope, afraid to face her failure in the form of his inconsolable grief. She failed him. She let Cass die. Worse, his death would have been on her own hands had Barsilisk been a second later. Hope lost another friend, a part of his irreplaceable family. They were growing fewer and fewer. Lightning couldn't face that dead look of despair again. It would split her open, his pain spilling into her.

"Want me to-"

"I'm sorry about Cass."

Her words seemed to hang in the air, freezing above them like the icicles. Hope didn't react, expression alarmingly reserved. Lightning bit down on her tongue. Hard. Harder.

"I know."

Her teeth loosened.

"Thank you… for your hesitation."

"I would have killed him if it had come to it," Lightning said, steadfast and adamant.

"I know." Hope nodded, and understanding smoothed the crease between his brows, eased the tightness of his lips. "But you hesitated."

It scratched at her pride, made her want to lash out at the Lightning that couldn't pull the trigger on a damn kid. Hesitation got people killed. It could have gotten Hope killed. "I'm sorry. I let him get too close to-"

Hope leaned in, pecking her lips. "You gave him a chance. Thank you."

A chance. Was that it? Was that the root of her hesitation? She allowed herself to believe in Cass, in Hope's ability to walk him off of that ledge.

Was it… a good thing?

Hope stared down at his hands. Lightning followed his gaze. His bare hand pulled at the loose threads of his lone glove. The glove was dirty and frayed and burnt and was left as a testament to the fight that he had endured. "Blood," he uttered, and Lightning could feel Hope bristle as his fingers ghosted over the blood splattered between his fingers.

She could practically hear his thoughts.

There was literally blood on his hands.

Hope moved, grabbing at the glove as he tried to tear it off. It stubbornly clung to his skin. Hope's violent thrashing achieved little.

Lightning pushed her lips against Hope's. Her hands took his gloved hand between them, fingers feeling for those bloody splotches. Hope tried to pull away, but Lightning wouldn't let him go. She wanted Hope to feel her acceptance - of him, of all of him, of this. This blood. This struggle. This fight. It was his and hers. A shared burden and she would have it no other way. Lifting herself up, she straddled his lap, kissing harder until she was all he could feel. Pressed against him, sinking into him. His gloved hand fell to the side, her hands taking his neck into her hold, feeling the warmth of his skin, the thrum of his pulse beneath her lips as she trailed hot kisses across his skin. With a want-induced urgency, her fingers tugged the top buttons of his shirt free, tonguing at the hollow of his throat until he yanked her head up by her hair and kissed her back with a tide-crashing sureness.

There was no escaping the events of the past day. The loss. The pain. Even the blood. But Lightning focused on the one constant that was left. Her feelings for Hope. They couldn't forget their losses, but they could lose themselves in each other for now. She loosened the jacket from Hope's shoulders as if she were pushing off the weight of that day.

Hope pulled her closer, impossibly closer, and Lightning wrapped her legs around his waist. He kissed back like he was devouring her, sucking her in. His passion was always tidal in its ferocity, but she found herself stunned by the increasing desperation in his movements. His fingers dug into her spine to hold on. To keep her there. He tipped her back until they were on the ground, Hope snug between her legs. She grunted at the less than graceful transition, but Hope swallowed the sound. His hand gripped onto her thigh. Lightning could still feel the soreness of the muscles, the old, battered fibers now threaded with new.

"Hope." Lightning could barely speak, or breathe in the midst of Hope's affection. She knew that Hope was spiraling, even as he held her, kissed her. His tears dripped onto her cheeks, the salt slipping between their lips. He was clinging onto her with the last of his sanity.

"Hope," she said more sternly, pinching at a muscle in the back of his neck that had him yelping. He stopped, looking down at her and the fog seemed to clear. He leapt off of her. A string of unnecessary apologies followed as Hope skittered back to his original spot against the wall. "I-It wasn't my intention to..."

"You're acting like you were molesting me." His eyelids crashed together, and he looked downright mortified like he believed he had. "You weren't," Lightning assured, staving off her disbelief at the fact that she had to say it.

"I-" Hope swallowed, composing himself. "I didn't mean to use you."

"As a distraction, you mean? I'm fine with that." Lightning crawled closer, but Hope flinched. She settled for sitting beside him, just enough that their thighs and shoulders brushed together. "It was different. I'm used to you handling me like I'm going to break. You being so bold, almost zealous," Lightning chuckled as Hope uttered a pitiful whine, "I liked it. Didn't know you had it in you, Tiger."

"God, _stop_ ," Hope laughed. He looked back over at her, brushing hair back from her neck. "I felt like I was regaining my sense of control. I could feel something good and real again and… As long as I didn't hurt you."

"Yeah, pretty sure I'm the one that hurt you." Lightning went to peek at the back of his neck, but Hope shrugged at her concern. "I'm here, Hope. We'll get through this."

Hope chewed on her words, jaw working until he nodded back. In one swift movement, Hope slid off his tattered glove and tossed it into the fire. The flames burned into the dark of his green irises until sleep claimed him once more.

* * *

Zalera and Sazh stood just outside of the entrance to the cave, allowing the two to have their moment. Zalera breathed in the bite of never-ending winter that clouded the Argodian Mountains. She thought that stepping back out onto Pulse would be like feeling her own heart beat back into her chest, but instead it felt alien, churning her stomach with an aimless ire. Her insides remained vacant of the sense of wholeness that she once felt on this ground that was supposed to be her home.

"How can you stand this? It's freezin' out here. I can hardly feel my toes," Sazh exclaimed as he wiggled his booted feet, arms hugging his sides.

"Growing up on Pulse toughens the skin. The weather has nothing on me." She would never admit to the numbness that burdened her limbs. She had her pride, after all. Determined eyes gazed out, formulating a plan and trekking a course. If Hope was going after the crystals, then Zalera needed to lead them forward. Pulse was her territory. Since her previous tribe had been nomadic, her knowledge of Pulse's lands was unquestionable. Their first stop would be Pulse's castle; the place where he had departed from the world.

"Just glad we didn't lose you back there."

"That makes two of us."

"Although… we lost a lot. That's for sure."

Their civilization. Friends. Family.

Pain rippled through Zalera at the memory of the loss of her tribe and birthplace. It lasted like a malignant tumor encasing her heart, turning her bitter, disconnecting her from others. But even through such despair, there was hope to be had for the future, and the friends made along the way.

Viridian eyes flashed towards the cave. Protecting Hope wouldn't be easy. Castea would no doubt hover over them, their very own eye in the sky, assuring that her task be complete. Enemies would continue to crop up from within the wilds of Pulse, both beast and human. Hope was going to be fighting both sides of the conflict, no one but their small group to aid him on his journey.

"I'm afraid," Zalera admitted.

"Afraid?"

"Can we protect him?"

"Doesn't seem like enough, does it? The three of us watchin' his back." Sazh's mouth thinned into a grim line, and his hand went to his chest. He shook the dour look off as quickly as it formed, hands on his hips as he leaned into her space with his typical self-assured smile. "Why you lookin' so gloomy? We can take care of the kid jus' fine. If the six of us could do it before, then the four of us will manage. I'm sure of it. Now let's get back in there before these old bones turn to ice."

Zalera returned his smile, affecting composure. Sazh walked inside, but she did not follow.

Hope's face as he'd been dragged aboard the ship gripped onto the forefront of her thoughts. She knew that look. It was the same look that he had back in the Ark. The same look that Yeul had given her that last time Zalera had seen her. The same look that Zalera caught in her reflection days after she had been orphaned. A devastated, desolate look that defiled one's hope and ravaged their will to survive.

"Can we protect him from himself?"


End file.
